


Aiming To Shoot You Down

by mistyzeo



Series: Bad Boys 'verse [3]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hospital, Alternate Universe - Law Enforcement, Dating, First Meetings, First Time, Humor, M/M, Prequel, Schmoop, spn_j2_bigbang_2011
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-09
Updated: 2011-06-09
Packaged: 2017-10-20 13:05:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 31,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistyzeo/pseuds/mistyzeo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Officer Jared Padalecki is shot on a routine drug bust gone wrong, and he winds up in the hospital under the care of nurse Jensen Ackles. After he's released Jared never expects to see the nurse again, but he runs into him by chance at a local coffee shop, coming off his night shift. Their budding romance is an unusual one, checked by Jared's long-term recovery and Jensen's unconventional work schedule, and sometimes it's not easy to find time for one another. Somehow though, through thick and thin, they're determined to make it work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

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> **Aiming to Shoot You Down**  
>  by mistyzeo @ lj  
> art by pretty-patties @ lj
> 
> A CWRPS AU: Jared Padalecki/Jensen Ackles, rated NC-17  
> ~33,000 words  
> written for 2011
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> _A prequel to two shorter pieces,[When They Come For You](http://mistyzeo.livejournal.com/53280.html) and [Give You No Break](http://mistyzeo.livejournal.com/104445.html), _ Aiming to Shoot You Down _is the story of how they met, how they fell in love, how they fucked up, and how they tried to fix it again._
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> 
> A thousand thanks to [pretty-patties] who managed to pick mine of all the stories. It's been lovely working with her and such a treat to find her art in my inbox. You, my dear, have made me the luckiest writer of the whole challenge! Thank you for taking this on, and for putting up with all my last minute this-and-that. ♥
> 
> Also, thanks to [dugindeep] for the alpha read and the suggestions. Also love to [latentfunction] and [setissma] for much-needed beta reads, and [toronja] for trying really hard to keep my comma use in check.
> 
> Finally, kudos to [wendy] and [thehighwaywoman] for running this dog and pony show another year without any visible hitches. You ladies are my heroines.(look out, there's art in the fic and it's not always PG)
> 
> Check out the superb art on its own by [pretty-patties] at the [Art Post](http://pretty-patties.livejournal.com/516.html#cutid1) (NSFW)
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> [Soundtrack](http://mistyzeo.livejournal.com/147943.html)
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> **NB:** I am a writer, not a cop or a nurse, and I don't play them on TV. If you know more about these things and notice any glaring errors, I'd love to hear about them. Don't hesitate to contact me by PM or email if you have a technical critique. :D

Jared wakes up groggy and confused, the smell of antiseptic in his nose and a steady beeping his only companion. His eyelids feel too heavy, and his left shoulder hurts like hell. With his eyes closed, he stretches his fingers and finds that only one hand responds. The texture under his fingertips is the scratchy waffle-weave of a blanket that is not his own. He also feels somewhat unclothed.

The ceiling is white acoustic tile, and Jared blinks at it for a while in the semi-dark, taking his sweet time identifying the beeping: heart monitor. Now he can feel the clip on his index finger, the IV on the back of his hand, and the bandages wrapping his chest and arm.

Shot. He got shot. Christ. What did he do that for?

Jared slows his breathing deliberately, trying to parse through the fragmented memories. They must have him on some serious painkillers, he thinks, because dredging the inside of his brain feels like wading through molasses. He remembers the hour before the bust: getting ready at the station, suiting up in full gear; the ride in the car with Chad, how quiet they'd both been, letting the radio fill the silence; waiting in the alley with guns drawn, legs cramping at the crouch he was in; then the back door bursting open, slamming with a clang against the brick wall, and Jared and Chad on their feet, facing down three armed addicts and not coming out on top.

He remembers the ambulance, a little: loud inside and busy, and he never thought he'd get to ride in one. He remembers being secretly thrilled that he did get a chance. He remembers wondering if he was going to die.

Someone has thoughtfully left the call button within reach of his left hand, and Jared fumbles with it blindly until it clicks. He only has to wait a few seconds before he hears the squeaky footsteps of someone wearing comfortable sneakers, and then there's someone coming into the room. He hasn't managed the coordination yet to turn his head.

"Mr. Padalecki, are you awake?"

The voice is male, calmly curious and entirely professional. Jared doubts it's a doctor: doctors don't come when you ring the bell.

"Think so," he says. His voice is hoarse, and he clears his throat. He feels a little dizzy.

The voice― or rather, the person behind the voice― lets out a little huffed breath, almost a laugh, and the footsteps approach. Jared wonders if he could angle the bed up a little to see better, but immediately registers that it would put pressure on his shoulder. He stays put. The nurse picks up the chart hanging at the end of his bed and finally comes around to the side so Jared can see him.

Oh fuck, Jared thinks, entirely grateful that he stifled the desire to make a male nurse joke. This guy is gorgeous, and it's not just the drugs talking. Even from this angle, which is not a flattering angle on anyone, he looks good. Jared can see the line of his throat, the broadness of his shoulders, the hint of stubble on his jaw. He wants to lick that jaw all of a sudden, and feels himself flush with the craziness of the idea.

"How are you feeling?" the nurse asks.

"Awesome," Jared says, his mouth entirely out of control, "now that you're here."

"Wow," the nurse says, the hint of a smile turning up the corner of his beautiful lips, "that was quick. I usually get at least one blood pressure measurement in before I get hit on."

"Really?" Jared asks. "That shocks me. You should get hit on right away."

"And usually it's women," the nurse adds, smiling openly now. He puts the chart down and reaches for the blood pressure cuff.

"Oh," Jared says, seriously disappointed. He frowns and stares at the nurse's bicep, and the nurse grins.

"Never mind," he says. "Can you lift your arm for me?"

"Which?"

"The one that doesn't hurt."

Jared obeys. The nurse takes his blood pressure, tells him, "One seventeen over seventy five," and writes it down, and then comes at him with the thermometer. "Under your tongue."

Jared opens his mouth, wider than necessary.

"Don't show off," the nurse says.

Jared closes his mouth around the thermometer and pouts a little, for effect.

The nurse says, "Ninety nine point one," after a moment, and writes it down too. "A little high, but not bad. We're watching you now for infection. Do you remember what happened?"

"I got shot," Jared says.

"You sure did. Remember anything after that?"

Jared shakes his head. Beyond the ambulance, he's got nothing.

"You should soon," the nurse assures him. "We have you on thirteen milligrams of morphine every three hours, so it's not surprising that you're a little out of it right now. Big guy like you needs a lot of drugs." The nurse almost winks, Jared's sure of it. "We'll start bringing it down over the next couple of days, depending on your reaction."

"Where's my partner?" Where's his Chief, by the way, or his sister? Shouldn't they be waiting by his bedside in a vigil for his life?

The nurse takes Jared's wrist and pauses, counting Jared's pulse as he stares at the clock on the wall. His hand is warm and strong, and Jared flexes his wrist very subtly to feel his grip. It's nice. Then the nurse lets go and says, "I'm going to guess sleeping," as he writes down the measurement.

"What time is it?"

"3:47 AM."

Jared breathes, "Oh," and relaxes.

"We'll give him a call in the morning, though," the nurse assures him, "to let him know you've woken up. There was a woman here last night― your next of kin?"

"Meg," Jared supplies. "She lives in town."

"That's what she said. So we'll give her a call too, and they'll probably be here in the morning. You comfortable enough?"

Jared tips his head to the side. "Think so."

"Try to sleep some more. Need anything else right now?"

"Um," Jared says, "can I get your number?"

The nurse laughs outright, throwing back his head and baring the line of his throat to Jared. "You don't need it," he says, "you've got the call button." He writes down a few more notes, checking the monitor at the head of Jared's bed, and tucks his pen behind his ear. "Try to sleep," he says again, and then he's gone.

Jared spends a few minutes― or an hour, he's not sure― staring at the ceiling some more, picturing the nurse coming back. He's a little too drugged up to get far in his fantasy beyond the warm pressure of his hands and the quiet smile on his face, but he falls asleep feeling fairly content, hot male nurse action notwithstanding.

  
  


Meg's there in the morning when Jared wakes up, sitting at his bedside still wearing her coat, with her purse on her knees and worry creasing her pretty forehead.

"Hey," she breathes when he opens his eyes, "hey Jay. How you feeling?"

"Ung," Jared says, to indicate that he is alive after all. "Okay," he manages. He feels better than last night, that's for sure: less like he got shot in the shoulder and then run over by a truck, and more like he just got shot.

"Want me to get the nurse?" Meg asks.

Jared shakes his head, and it doesn't hurt as bad now. He finds the bed remote and levers himself into a moderately dignified sitting position. "I'm good," he says, wincing. His shoulder aches dully, but his fingers and toes wiggle on command and he starts to slide carefully out of bed.

"Wait, Jared," Meg says immediately, getting up and coming around to put a hand on his knee. "Where're you going?"

"I'm good," Jared says again, squeezing her hand. "I'm just gonna pee."

"There's a bed pan―"

"Nope," Jared says quickly, finding the floor and standing up. "No thank you, no." The IV in the back of his hand itches, but he ignores it and grabs a hold of the stand instead, wheeling it slowly into the tiny bathroom. "Half a minute," he promises his sister, pointing at her, and closes the door.

He has to sit to pee, which sucks, but his balance isn't quite good enough to keep him upright for long. The room isn't big anyway, and he's not sure where he would stand even if he were in top form. He rinses his hands perfunctorily and reemerges to find that a nurse has joined Meg in the room.

It's not the nurse from last night, Jared is disappointed to discover, but an older woman with dyed blonde hair and a shirt covered in teddy bears. Jared is a grown man and a police officer, and does not think he deserves to be confronted with a woman covered in teddy bears so early in his convalescence.

"Feeling all right, Mr. Padalecki?" the nurse asks briskly as he sits down on the bed and arranges himself at a snail's pace. "I guess you must be, to be up already."

"Won't be up for long," Jared promises, relaxing, and Meg puts the blanket back over his hips. She looks less pinched now, less worried, now that he's proved his stamina and virility on a daunting trip to the toilet. He reaches out for her with his left hand and she takes it immediately.

The nurse goes about her business, checking his pulse and blood pressure and temperature again. Jared closes his eyes and waits, submitting to her ministrations. Finally she writes down her last note and says, "That's all for now, Mr. Padalecki. How do you feel about breakfast?"

"Always a fan" Jared says, opening his eyes, and Meg looks delighted.

When the nurse finally goes, Meg moves to sit on the edge of his bed at his knees. "You scared the shit out of me," she says, "what were you thinking, getting shot?"

"Being a hero," Jared sighs, smiling. The morphine is good this morning. They must have decreased the dose a little, because now he just feels silly and not completely gone.

"Be serious, Jay," Meg says. "Mom and Dad wanted to fly out here, but I told them you were stable and I'd be here for you. They'll want to know."

"Drug bust." Jared grins. "Successful, I might add."

"Mostly," Meg says.

"Entirely!"

"Minus the officer down."

"Minus the officer down," Jared agrees. "Fine. Mostly successful."

Meg shakes her head, disapproving. "You make me nuts, big brother," she says.

They're interrupted by the arrival of breakfast, along with Jared's Chief, Jeff Morgan, who appears in the doorway looking particularly huge today. "Jesus christ, Padalecki," he says, "look at you."

"Can't, sir," Jared says, poking at the jello on his tray. Jello for breakfast, really? "It hurts to turn my head."

Morgan snorts a laugh and takes off his sunglasses as he steps into the room. Meg makes room for him at the bedside. "Good to see you've still got a sense of humor," he says. "How're you feeling?"

Jared shrugs his good shoulder. "So so," he says. "When do I get out of here?"

"I don't know," Morgan says, "but don't get too excited. I'm putting you on leave for at least a week, and then you've got a mountain of paperwork coming your way."

"Aw, Chief," Jared moans, dropping his spoon, but Morgan holds up a hand.

"None of that, Padalecki. Like talking to a kid," he says to Meg, and she smiles. "Listen," Morgan says, pulling up a chair, "you awake enough to give me an informal statement?"

Jared narrows his eyes, trying to remember the chain of events, and says, "Yeah, okay."

"Should I go?" Meg asks.

"No," Morgan says, waving her back to her seat on the edge of Jared's bed. "Informal is informal. Tell me what happened, Jay."

Jared sighs and rubs a hand over his face. "Me and Chad, we were out behind the building, stationed near the rear exit behind a dumpster. We had back-up behind us in cars in case the suspects got past us, but Abel had us in position in the hopes that they'd be too coked out or disoriented to put up much of a fight."

Morgan nods, his hands folded in his lap. The man has something of a photographic memory, and Jared knows he'll be calling on the details later when he reads Jared's formal report.

"We were told there were two suspects inside the building on the third floor, and to expect them to come either out the back door or down the fire escape, if they'd gotten away from her team."

"This was the drug bust Abel told me about on Thursday?"

"Yeah," Jared agreed, "but he thought it was just two assholes packing bags for a bigger fish. Turns out the fish was there too." His metaphors might be a little misaligned, he thinks, but he's on morphine. Fuck it.

Morgan nods, his mouth tight. Jared figures he's heard part of the story from Chad already. He slurps at the jello again, and continues.

"So it was three guys that came out of the back door instead of two, all armed. They got a shot off before we did, and I went down."

"Murray says your back-up came to your assistance."

"Probably," Jared says. "I don't―" He stops. "I don't really know. It hurt a lot."

Morgan smiles a little and pats Jared's knee. "I bet, kiddo."

"Hey―" Jared warns, but Morgan grins at him.

"I'm kidding, Officer," he says. "You took a bullet; you deserve some respect."

"Damn right," Jared huffs, trying to cross his arms in indignation and remembering at the last second why it's a bad idea. "Ow, shit."

"Easy there," Meg says.

"Did you fire your weapon?" Morgan asks.

"Yes." Jared remembers the recoil, heavy and strong in his hand.

"Did you hit anything?"

"I have no idea. I must've fired the same time the bullet hit me. There was a lot of blood, sir."

"We have the forensics team looking into who fired which gun when. One of the runners went down with a bullet in his thigh, but I think it was Murray's."

"I hope it was," Jared agrees. Less paperwork and jumping through hoops for him to do.

"I'll let you know," Morgan says. "Then what?"

"Then I remember a whole lotta pain, and Chad radioing for an ambulance. I guess I blacked out for a bit, 'cause then all I can remember is being in the ambulance."

"Okay," Morgan says. "That'll do. Thanks, Jay."

"Sure thing," Jared says. He's exhausted. Talking is exhausting. Breakfast is boring. He drops his head back against the pillow and winces at the way it jostles his arm, and Meg takes Morgan's place when he stands and moves away. "Wait."

"Yeah?" Morgan turns around.

"Did they get away?" Jared would be totally embarrassed if he got shot for nothing.

"Your runners didn't," Morgan says, "but the last one, the big fish― we haven't got a hold of him yet."

"'Kay," Jared says, satisfied. His fingers and toes are starting to feel a little fuzzy. He wiggles all of them. The next dose of morphine must have been dispensed while they were talking. "Meggles?"

Meg rolls her eyes at the nickname, and Morgan gives her a little salute as he slips out the door. Jared reaches with his good hand and she meets him in the middle. "Yeah, Jay?"

"Tell Mom and Dad I'm okay, will you?"

"Promise," Meg says.

"And I want a dog for my birthday."

"Okay," Meg says. She's laughing. Jared doesn't know why: he's very serious.

"Fuck," Jared says, suddenly remembering his own real dogs, "wait. Have they been walked?"

Meg manages to follow the train of thought. "I walked them this morning before I came over," she says, squeezing his hand. "They miss you, but they're fine."

"Good," Jared says. Then he falls asleep.

  
  


He wakes up a few hours later and Meg is long gone. There's crap on the television, but Jared watches it for a while anyway. He accepts lunch when it's offered, eats the chicken soup and cornbread, and takes another nap. After dinner another nurse, this one in pink scrubs and her red hair up in a ponytail, says he can get out of bed if he feels like it and do laps around the nurses' station. He does, glad that someone brought him clean boxers, and wanders in slow circles dragging his IV stand until that gets boring too. It doesn't take long.

Chad calls him on the room phone and promises to visit in the morning. He'd come tonight, but he's got a date with the girl from forensics who dug Jared's bullet out of the brick wall of the alley, and apparently she's "smokin' hot." He's almost as thrilled about the bullet in the wall, because it means for sure that he was the one to shoot the suspect. It also means a pile of paperwork all in triplicate, but Chad was the one who bragged to Jared on their first day as rookies together that he only went into the academy for the guns and was surprised at the end when they handed him a badge. Jared only half believes him.

He hangs up with Chad and the redhead comes in, asking if he needs anything else before the shift changes at ten. His shoulder aches, he's bored as shit, and he's exhausted from doing nothing, but he can't think of anything in particular he wants. He's been trying not to use the morphine too much, but she gives him the go-ahead to knock himself out for a few hours.

It's a quarter past two when he wakes again, and the room is mostly dark, slivers of light sneaking in the vertical blinds over the window. The hall is quiet, and the only sound is the quiet steady beep of his heart monitor. He wonders if that's really still necessary now that they've determined that he's not dying, but it's kind of cool to listen to anyway. Jared's shoulder still hurts, a dull pain seeping through him, and he hopes they'll give him something as good as the morphine when he's finally released.

He remembers with a start that the nurse from last night might be on duty again, and he debates calling the nurse's station just to check. How creepy would that actually be? He doesn't know the guy's name, and now that he's more levelheaded that does seem a little creepy. But now that he's levelheaded he also remembers how hot the guy was― his soft cotton pants tied at his narrow waist, the stretch of the shirt around his biceps, the curve of his lips. Jared has a recollection of striking green eyes, but he's not entirely sure he didn't make that up. He crosses his fingers on his right hand and hopes the guy is on the hall, because he has to get another look at him. And maybe make a pass at him that is less terrible than the fumbling he remembers from last night.

Jared doesn't have a chance to ring the nurses before the door is opening quietly, and a petite nurse with dark hair— definitely not the nurse he was thinking of— pokes her head in. When she sees that Jared is awake she opens the door wider and comes into the room.

Her name is Sandy, and her hands are cool and delicate on Jared's skin as she goes through the inspection Jared's suffered through every four hours or so since he woke up last night, checking his blood pressure, temperature, pulse, and other boring stuff.

She asks if there's anything she can do for him before she leaves him alone again, and he says, "Wait, yes."

Sandy raises her eyebrows and waits.

"There's― a guy? A nurse? He was here last night."

"Jensen?"

"Is that his name?"

"Yeah," Sandy says, "Jensen's the only man on shift for this floor."

"I― made a fool of myself yesterday, and I was hoping I could apologize."

Sandy's face softens, and she smiles at him. "I'll go get him," she promises, and disappears.

Jensen turns up five minutes later, and Jared cheers internally― it is him. He's even better looking tonight now that Jared's got his brain on straight: tall, clean-shaven, neatly put-together, with a decidedly amused look in his eyes.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Padalecki?" He crosses his arms across his chest, looking buff.

"Hi," Jared says, "I'm really sorry about last night."

Jensen smirks, obviously trying to suppress a bigger smile. "Don't worry about it," he says.

"I'm sure you get that a lot," Jared goes on, aiming for reticent in his tone of voice, "but I was pretty stoned, and you looked really excellent in that particular shade of blue, and I just couldn't help myself."

The smirk grows into a bashful grin, and Jensen ducks his head a little and uncrosses his arms. "Wow," he says, "that was very skillful."

"What do you mean?" Jared asks, eyes wide. Innocent, he has to be innocent.

"It was an apology, but it wasn't quite," Jensen says.

"Well, I'm sorry I hit on you while I was stoned," Jared says, "but mostly I'm sorry because I was stoned at the time."

Jensen laughs outright and approaches the bed. Jared smiles up at him beguilingly and Jensen shakes his head indulgently. Jared is at a much better angle this time, getting to look Jensen almost in the face, and he really is as attractive as Jared's morphine-addled mind remembered. Maybe more. He has a splash of freckles across his cheeks and really beautiful eyes, and Jared just prays he's getting somewhere. He's got to get to know this guy better.

"Apology accepted," Jensen says. "Do you promise not to do it again?"

"No," Jared says, and now he's really turning on the charm. He's sitting in a hospital bed flirting with a hot nurse. When did he get so awesome?

Jensen laughs again. "Fine," he says. "Then I'll steel myself for at least one inappropriate remark per shift."

"Make it two," Jared says, grinning now. Jensen is cute and receptive to his stupid jokes. This is great. "I'm only staying another night, two at the most, so I need to make an impression."

"Well, good luck." Jensen's smile relaxes, so he's no longer outright grinning back at Jared, but the corners of his eyes are still crinkled with amusement. He's so fucking sexy, Jared thinks, in his scrubs, with his dorky photo on his name tag, and the ugly hospital lighting. He wishes he weren't still in pain and on drugs, otherwise he would one hundred percent try to get Nurse Jensen into his very convenient bed _right now._ Even though that would be seriously inappropriate.

Instead, he satisfies himself with saying, "You work out, right? How much can you bench?" and reaching out, slowly, to hesitate right before he touches Jensen's impressive upper arm. It's cheesy, but it seems to be effective.

Jensen indulges him by flexing, and says, "Not as much as you, I bet."

"How much?"

"Two twenty five," Jensen admits, and Jared sees a gleam of pride in his eyes.

"Awesome," he says.

"What about you?"

"I dunno," Jared lies, "I haven't tried it in a while."

"Please," Jensen says, "you're a cop. You must work out every day."

Jared shrugs his good shoulder carefully. "Yeah, but."

"Come on," Jensen urges.

"Two thirty two," Jared says on a sigh, and Jensen snorts a laugh, shaking his head again. His hair looks really soft and spiky with the light behind him. The drugs must be working again, Jared guesses. To distract himself, he asks, "How long have you been a nurse?" It'll also tell him how old Jensen is, if he's up to doing some math right now.

Jensen's face changes. He loves his job, Jared can tell. He lights up and smiles, and Jared thinks he might even be reining it in a little. "Five years," he says proudly.

"Did you always want to be a nurse?"

"I wanted to be a doctor, in high school," Jensen says, "but I started volunteering at a local hospital in college, and then I went straight to nursing school after I graduated."

"That awesome, huh?"

"That awesome," Jensen agrees. "Nurses have a lot more contact with the patients, and I wanted that." Jared swallows the smart remark that desperately wants to be made, and Jensen rolls his eyes. "Hilarious."

"Incredibly serious," Jared says. The math has worked out nicely, and it puts Jensen at twenty-nine.

"I can tell." Jensen shifts his weight, and Jared wonders if he should offer Jensen a seat. That might be inappropriate also. "How long do you have to be a cop before you're allowed to get shot?"

"Three years, apparently," Jared says. "Must be like a rite of passage. I wonder if I get a medal."

"For getting yourself shot?"

"In the line of duty," Jared protests. "That's worth something, right? It's not as if I went and got myself shot hunting or something. I was like, chasing down bad guys."

Jensen's hip beeps unexpectedly, and Jensen jumps, clapping a hand over his pager. "Shit, I'm― wow, language. I'm sorry. I have to go― do nurse stuff." He smiles, shy again all of a sudden. "It's been nice chatting."

"Maybe later?" Jared asks.

"Sure," Jensen agrees as he backs out the door. "If you're awake."

  
  


Jared doesn't see Jensen again that night, but that's mostly because in his efforts to stay awake he turns on the television and promptly falls asleep. He's woken when a different nurse comes in again to check his vitals, but by then it's dawn and Jared's too tired to flirt anymore. Regardless of how cute Jensen is, Jared is definitely not at his best. He has to come back when he's upright and showered and looking fly.

The nurse who brings his breakfast in brings news with her that he's going to be released soon, probably after a check-up with the surgeon. The surgeon arrives just after Meg does, and makes Jared sit up so he can take a look under his bandages and show Jared how to keep the stitches clean and dry.

"It's looking good," the surgeon says, and Jared realizes he doesn't know the man's name. Covert glances at his ID badge leave Jared with a vague impression of a Dr. Wilberforth or Wilsonfrith or something. He decides not to care.

"So I can go soon?"

"We'll need to make sure you get yourself set up with some physical therapy," Dr. Waterfort says kindly. "How is the pain?"

"Not awesome," Jared says.

"I'll write you a prescription for oxycodone, to keep it down to a manageable level. We'll make sure your GP gets a copy of all of this, and when you run out of the good stuff you can negotiate for something a little lighter."

"Cool," Jared says, and the doctor smiles.

"Shouldn't be too long now, Mr. Padalecki, before we get you out of here and on your way home."

  
  


It's more than four hours, actually, before he gets released, and he's exhausted already by the time he's climbing carefully into Meg's car. He dozes on the ride home, and Meg wakes him when they pull into the driveway.

The dogs come running when they hear Meg unlock the apartment door, and she has to deflect them while Jared gives them each a head rub, wary of his shoulder. His arm is in a sling now, held carefully against his chest, and the dogs don't seem to understand why he's not on the ground with them for full-body hugs.

"You'll need to find someone to run them," Meg says, "until your shoulder's better."

"I can run them," Jared protests, but even now his shoulder is throbbing and he just wants to lie down again.

Meg raises her eyebrows at him, disbelieving, and he scowls.

"Fine. Know anyone?"

"I'll ask around. Got a neighbor kid who could do it?"

"I'll call Ben and Martha tomorrow, ask if Andy's available."

"They'll love that," Meg says. "You want me to make you lunch or something?"

Jared shakes his head, sinking down onto the couch. "Just wanna sleep."

"Okay, superman," she says. "I'll make some tuna salad so you don't starve later. Call me if you need anything. And call the neighbor kid."

"I will," Jared promises, and he's asleep before he hears Meg leave.

  
  


The neighbor kid, Andy, is thrilled to walk the dogs. Jared tries to stress that he has to run them, not just walk them, but Andy plays soccer and Jared's pretty sure he knows what running is. Besides, the dogs will get a run out of him whether he likes it or not. Jared is happy to pay $10 for each run just to watch Sadie and Harley take off at full speed with Andy dragging behind. It's pretty hilarious, especially when he's taken a strong painkiller.

Having a bum arm makes everything fucking annoying, from feeding the dogs to making dinner to getting the mail, and Jared's secretly glad that he's not expected back at work for a few days. He has to get used to this shit so he can be back on his game. It's lucky that it's the left arm out of commission rather than the right, because at least he'll still be able to do paperwork. Especially paperwork related to discharging his firearm. Awesome.

He spends most of the days off lying around partly dressed, because it's too hard to put on pants and that much effort makes his arm hurt, watching TV or fantasizing about the hot nurse. He can't help it― that much inactivity gets boring fast. They're idle fantasies, but they're enjoyable, and more than one ends with Jared's hand in his shorts. He should feel bad about it, probably, but he doesn't expect to see the guy again. And his arms were so nice, and his freckles were so cute, and his mouth would look awesome anywhere on Jared's body.

He has a follow-up with his regular doctor a few days after he gets out of the hospital, and she says the same things about painkillers that the hospital surgeon did. She also recommends a few Physical Therapy clinics nearby, and insists that he make an appointment as soon as possible to get started on his recovery.

Some of the force stops by the apartment to keep him entertained. It's better than watching ESPN alone, and while going for a walk around the apartment complex wouldn't have been his idea of fun two weeks ago, now getting outside is both a chore and a treat.

"So how's it feel?" Aldis asks, obligingly taking Sadie's leash from Jared's good hand and letting her pull him across the street to the park. Aldis works a different beat than Jared and Chad, but they were all in the academy together and Jared was pleased and surprised to find him on the doorstep with a frozen dinner in hand as a token of well-wishes for Jared's recovery.

"Stupid," Jared says. He bends to unclip Harley's collar and hands Aldis the tennis ball. "I can't move it, I can't do anything. I can hold things in my hand, but nothing heavy. Coffee mugs are about my limit."

Aldis chucks the ball as far as he can and the dogs go tearing off after it. Normally Jared would have two, one for each of them, but even throwing a ball with his right arm makes his left arm hurt.

"How long are you laid up?" Aldis asks.

"I'm in the sling for like a month," Jared says, "but I'll be back at my desk on Monday. Thank God."

"Your place that boring?"

"I've watched every episode of the British version of The Office, and it's just not funny anymore."

Aldis snorts. "Maybe that's your problem."

Jared shakes his head ruefully. "Seemed like a good idea at the time."

  
  


The first morning back at the precinct is a mess. Getting into his button-down shirt is a production all in itself, but he's glad he doesn't have to go all out with his uniform since he'll be at the desk all day. Jared remembers too late that he can't drive yet, and Chad has to come get him in a cruiser. Then he bangs his shoulder against a closing door and it sends a wave of pain through him so intense he stops in the middle of the hallway to gasp through it. The arms of his desk chair are too high for his arm in its sling, so he has to get a new one out of storage just so he can do paperwork for the next couple of months. The coffee machine is operable only with two hands, and then he comes inches from spilling his newly-poured, hard-won coffee down the front of his shirt when someone brushes up against him a minute later.

After lunch is better, but Jared is used to patrolling, and Chad keeps sending him texts from the cruiser with Abel who is serving as his temporary partner. The whole day is exhausting and miserable, and Jared still has to go home and make dinner and see that the dogs get their exercise.

The next morning he gets up earlier, showers carefully, prods at his sutures in the mirror, and gets dressed. He'll take the bus, which isn't glamorous, but it lets him off at a coffee shop near the station that he's always liked but rarely goes out of his way to visit. The bus comes at a little after seven, and he's outside the Nimble Bean at a quarter to eight.

The line is short but the staff looks a little overwhelmed, and Jared figures he just barely missed a rush. He orders a small coffee and steps aside to wait for it.

The girl at the other end of the bar, sprinkling a blended drink with chocolate flakes, calls out, "Jensen!" and slides the cup across the bar. Jared turns in surprise to see the hot nurse from the hospital laying claim to the extremely frilly drink, and Jensen looks up in time to catch his eye. Jared hesitates, unsure if Jensen will recognize him or want to recognize him, but Jensen's lips twitch in an aborted smile, and Jared grins.

"Hey," he says over the noise of the shop.

"Hey yourself," Jensen says, cupping his hands around his drink protectively.

"I saw your drink already," Jared says pointedly, "don't think you can hide your true nature."

"Oh," Jensen says, "my coffee equals my true nature, does it?"

"I'd say so," Jared says, managing to step closer. Jensen doesn't move, just takes a sip through his straw, and Jared tears his eyes away from Jensen's mouth. "For example, black coffee for me: simple and classic."

"Predictable," Jensen counters, as Jared retrieves the coffee from the counter.

"Traditional."

Jensen laughs. "How's the arm?"

"Awful," Jared confides, "but there isn't a bullet in it, so I'd count that a win."

"That's good."

"What are you doing getting coffee at this hour?" Jared asks.

"After work pick-me-up," Jensen says. "I shouldn't have too much caffeine past 6 a.m., but I just. Chocolate flakes, man. I needed them."

Jared spots a table opening up over Jensen's shoulder. "Wanna sit?"

Jensen pauses, purses his lips, and nods. "Yeah," he says, "okay."

"Rough night?" Jared asks, pulling the chair out for him. Jensen gives him an unreadable look and sets his messenger bag down between the table and the window. Jared slides into the seat opposite and puts his good elbow on the table.

"I guess," Jensen says with a sigh. "We had a couple of― it's gross, you don't want to hear this."

"I do," Jared says, earnestly. He's decided he could listen to Jensen say anything at all, for hours.

"It was like, non-stop vomiting," Jensen says finally after another long sip, smirking when Jared makes a face. "Three rooms. I must've mopped seven times."

"That is gross," Jared says.

"I warned you."

"I'm Jared, by the way. I don't think I ever introduced myself properly."

"I saw your chart," Jensen says, smiling around his straw.

"I know, but that was patient-nurse interaction."

"What's this, then?"

Jared narrows his eyes. Jensen has to be teasing. The glint in Jensen's eyes says he is, that he knows exactly what this is, and that he's enjoying it, too.

"Flirting, I hope," Jared says, just in case, and Jensen's cheeks go a little pink. "Let me take you out to dinner, some time."

Jensen's sigh is despondent. "Jared, I work the night shift."

"So?" Jared's coffee is cooling in front of him, and he doesn't care. Jensen is all he needs this morning, apparently. Even his shoulder isn't hurting so bad.

"So, I sleep all day. When you're thinking dinner, I want breakfast. I go to work at ten at night and I get out at six a.m. I want a beer at nine in the morning."

"I'll take you to breakfast," Jared offers, all earnest. "IHOP's open all the time."

Jensen smiles, but it's a little forced. Jared turns on the puppy eyes, the expression of hopeful desire that got him almost anything he wanted in college, and hasn't failed him much since. Jensen's smile relaxes, and then he grins. "Okay fine," Jensen agrees. "But I don't want IHOP, because that's not classy."

"Waffle House?"

"Shut up," Jensen laughs, and his straw wrapper hits Jared's chest. Then he's leaning down to dig in his bag, and comes up with his cell phone. They exchange numbers, and Jared promises to call, not text, because he is a gentleman and gentlemen know how to use a telephone properly.

"I gotta get to the precinct," Jared says, apologetically, cradling his phone and its new prize in his hand, "but I'll― I'll give you a call?"

"Sure," Jensen says, getting up when Jared does. "Yeah, I'd like that."

They walk out together, and Jared holds the door with his foot and sips his lukewarm coffee. Jensen smiles at him, shy, and glances at his sling.

"Good luck with that," he says. "Bet you're glad it wasn't the other arm." And then he winks, the big fucking flirt, and grins as he blushes. "Just think of the state you'd be in."

"Paperwork," Jared insists. "I wouldn't be able to do paperwork."

"Among other things," Jensen says, and hikes his bag up a little higher. "Gotta catch the bus, but I'll see you." And then he's gone, jogging away in the other direction towards the bus stop where the bus will be pulling up any minute now. Jared watches him go, still holding the coffee shop door open, until someone inside yells at him about the air conditioning and he has to step away.

"I'll be damned," he mutters, turning to walk up the block to the station.

  
  


Chad is waiting for him at his desk, perched on the corner with one foot propped up on Jared's newly chosen chair. Jared gives him a good kick, sending the chair spinning, and Chad's feet drop to the floor, upsetting him. He falls easily off the desk and stands, hiking his belt up and resettling his hip holster. Jared glances at the sidearm with a little bit of envy― his own was confiscated after the incident and hasn't been returned to him yet. Chad's was handed back probably about the same time Jared was getting out of the hospital, the investigation regarding the officer-involved shooting and discharge pretty damn straight-forward.

"I've been waiting forever," Chad gripes, "and you didn't even bring me a cup."

Jared glances at the empty coffee cup in his hand, and tosses it into the trash can under his desk. "I had better things to do than buy your sorry ass a cup of coffee."

"What could possibly be better than that?" Chad demands. "I need it, dude. Abel fucking drives like he's sixty, and we never do anything fun."

"I don't think you're supposed to do fun stuff on patrol," Jared says, and he sits down in his chair. It doesn't hurt his shoulder to lean back, so he does, propping his feet up on the desk where Chad was perched a minute ago. He stares up at his friend, allowing a little jealousy to sneak through. Patrolling with Chad is fun, as fun as patrols can be. He'd be lying if he said he didn't love getting to turn on the siren and run red lights in the name of the law.

"You know what I mean," Chad says. "What took you so long?"

"You remember when I was in the hospital?" Jared asks. Chad's deeply unimpressed glare tells him he does remember. "There was this super hot male nurse on the night shift."

"Gay," Chad says, but he's still listening.

"I ran into him at the coffee ship," Jared explains. "We chatted."

"Did you ask him out?"

"Duh," Jared says. "He works nights. I told him I'd take him to IHOP."

"Do not take him to IHOP," Chad says. "Even I know that's not okay. Dates to IHOP are for when you drink too much, fuck all night, and need to roll in at nine a.m. hungover and covered in questionable bruises―"

"TMI," Jared interrupts. "Just stop. I'm not taking him to IHOP."

"Well?"

Jared blows out a breath. "I don't know. I need ideas. Places that are open real early and serve dinner in the morning, or breakfast at night."

Chad narrows his eyes, chews on his lower lip for a minute. "You're stuck with IHOP," he says finally. "Well, I was going to tell you about Morgan's new plan for ruining your life, but I gotta run; catch criminals, safe lives, protect property, shit like that. Good luck!"

"Asshole!" Jared yells after him, and then glances around nervously at the handful of other people in the room giving him looks. He sits down again at the desk and fumbles for the first file in the stack, which is the report on the incident that he needs to add his statement to. The going is slow, since he can only type with one hand, but it keeps him fairly busy until the Chief does appear an hour later.

"Padalecki," Morgan says, pulling up a chair, "how's the shoulder?"

"Fine," Jared says, turning to face him. He tucks his left hand against his ribcage and shrugs his right shoulder. "Pretty useless." Morgan's not wearing his life-ruining face, so Jared's not too worried yet about whatever it could be.

"Listen," Morgan says, and Jared curses inwardly, because _there_ it is. "I know you can't do a lot of heavy lifting, and I know we talked about you getting your paperwork squared away, but Alona Tal down in evidence wanted to know if you would be willing to help her catalogue some of the stuff they've got in a backlog from June. It's small stuff, mostly, that no one bothered to sort."

Jared bites his lip and tries not to sigh too heavily. "Sure," he says, "I can do that."

"You're a pal," Morgan says, standing up again. "I'll let her know you're free, and you can head down after lunch, how's that sound?"

"Awesome," Jared agrees, and absorbs the smack on his good shoulder as well as he can. It still makes his other arm hurt.

  
  


Alona Tal is about Jared's age, and is a non-stop flirt. She has to know he's gay, he's told her at least twice, but she can't seem to turn it off. Maybe she just wanted him around for the eye-candy, because Jared cannot think of a single other reason to get the only one-armed guy in the precinct to help with sorting and cataloguing. He's so slow moving things around one at a time, and he can't pick up anything over ten pounds, which leaves all the lifting to her.

They fall into a rhythm eventually, though, with Alona doing most of the moving and Jared doing most of the writing. She asks him about the gunshot wound and he drops another hint about his preference for dudes by mentioning Jensen. Her flirtatious overtone disappears instantly now that Jared's apparently off the table for _real_ , and suddenly Jared likes her a whole lot more. Her smile is genuine, and her sarcasm makes an appearance, and Jared looks at his watch at a quarter to five and realizes he doesn't hate this after all. This recovery period might not suck.

  
  


"There's a diner on Eighth Street that's open twenty-four-seven," Jared says, thumbing the loose corner of the paper sleeve of his coffee cup. "If you're free some time." He's standing outside the Nimble Bean coffee shop, on his phone, his bad hand doing time with the hot cup. At least it's good for something.

"What's it called?" Jensen asks. He's at home, and over the phone Jared can hear the sound of him opening and closing his refrigerator.

"Nautilus, I think," Jared says. "Chad recommended it."

"Who's Chad?"

"My partner― my riding partner. Well, not right now obviously: right now he's riding with Abel. Anyway."

Jensen laughs, and Jared hears the clink of something glass. "So this diner."

"So this diner's open all the time and they serve food in exchange for money, and I was wondering if you'd like to go grab something to eat sometime after your shift?"

"Y-eah," Jensen says, drawing it out like he's thinking. "I can ditch Danneel on Sunday, if you're up for it. I know that's kind of a shitty day to get up early."

"Who's Danneel?" Jared asks.

"My roommate," Jensen says. "She's a cool chick, you'd like her."

Jared resists the urge to say, _Not as much as I like you,_ because that might be creepy. He doesn't know Jensen that well, really, but he does like him.

"Y'all work together?"

"She works an earlier shift sometimes, but she's got mine some weeks too."

"So the diner's okay, then," Jared says. "And Sunday's fine. I'd offer to pick you up, but…" He trails off. Not being able to use his car sucks. He could probably drive it one-handed, but he's too well trained in the art of upholding the law that he can't shake the knowledge that it wouldn't be safe.

"No driving," Jensen finishes, and he sounds like he's smiling. "I know. I can meet you there."

"What time do you get off?"

"Six," Jensen says.

"Is seven okay, then?" It makes Jared's head hurt just thinking about an hour that early in the morning on a weekend, but he'll do it for Jensen. He wonders if that's weird.

  
  


The diner is a great success, even if it is appallingly early. Jared eats everything he thinks should be a part of Sunday morning breakfast, and Jensen orders dinner foods and looks grateful when their grouchy waitress brings it out. He lets Jared try his food, and accepts a bite of pancake. They get into an argument about non-fiction as an art form, and Jared doesn't care who wins.

Jared drinks strong, bitter coffee and Jensen turns the waitress down when she asks if he wants any too with a, "No really, thank you, I just got off work at the hospital." Her whole demeanor changes from sullen to fawning, and Jensen ends up with a free piece of pie at the end of the meal.

"Big damn hero," Jared says, helping him eat it out of the kindness of his heart.

"I get it a lot," Jensen says, grinning and tapping the tines of his fork against his lower lip. Jared wants to lick the crumb of pie crust off his mouth. "Get free coffee sometimes at the Bean sometimes, if I'm looking particularly scruffy in the morning. People like nurses, what can I say?"

"Hot nurses," Jared counters. "They're only giving you stuff because of your rugged good looks."

Jensen rolls his eyes, but he's blushing. "My massive intellect takes offense at that," he says, and eats the last bite of pie before Jared can snag it. Jared signals their besotted waitress for the check, and takes it right from her without letting Jensen get anywhere near it.

"I got this."

"You sure?"

"You get the next one," he offers hopefully, and Jensen smiles.

"Yeah, all right," he says, sliding his wallet back into his pocket. "I can do that. Thanks."

  
  


"I have a few nights off next week," Jensen says, turning his coffee cup in his hands. "If you wanted to do something."

"Yeah," Jared says instantly. "Absolutely." It's been almost a week since he's seen Jensen, even after they promised to meet at the Bean as often as they could. Sure, it's easier to get to know Jensen in the more casual setting, but Jared kind of wants to go out and show Jensen a good time― show him off, even.

His shoulder, still immobile, is a huge fucking wrench in most of his plans, though.

"Got any thoughts?" Jensen asks.

"Dinner and a movie I hear always works," Jared says, and tips his head at his sling. "Low contact sports."

"How much longer are you in that for?" Jensen asks.

"Couple of days," Jared says. "Then I start PT and can, like, sleep without the sling on. But I have to wear it during the day until October."

Jensen makes a face. "Sounds like a pain."

"You should see the scar," Jared says, leering, and Jensen laughs.

"I saw the wound," he says, "so, no thanks."

"Maybe by accident?" Jared presses.

Jensen winks― actually _winks_ ― and says, "Maybe by accident. If I can't help it, since I'm already there."

Jared has the grace to blush. "So, when is that you're free, exactly?"

"So," Jensen says, sitting up straighter, "my friend is― he's playing at a bar on Friday, if you want to go."

"I like music," Jared says. "I'm not allowed to drink yet, though."

"That's cool," Jensen says. "I won't either. You sure you want to? His stuff's kind of country."

"You promise him you'd go?"

"Maybe."

Jared grins. "Well, I'm down. If you are. I don't mind meeting your friends. Or, listening to their music, or whatever."

"Cool," Jensen says. "It's a date."

  
  


Jared gets his stitches out a few days later, and then he has his first appointment with the physical therapist, Amy Lopez. She starts the appointment by making Jared re-tell the story of what happened, even though he's certain it's in the file she's holding in her hands, and what he's done since then. He leaves out the part about lying around on his couch like a slug, and also the part where he's trying to get into his nurse's pants, and focuses on exactly how it feels when he tries to move it now, and how many painkillers he takes every day.

"Well," Amy says, "it sounds like we're in a good position to start your exercises, then. I'll help you take off the sling."

She spends the session holding Jared's elbow and upper arm in a surprisingly firm grip, guiding him slowly through the full range of motion of his arm, pausing to jot down when he expresses pain, and talking to him about stretching. He absorbs maybe half of it, and she promises to go over it again when they meet on Monday.

"Three times a week," he tells Meg in the car an hour later. "It's nuts."

"It's required," Meg reminds him, being all sensible. Jared sticks out his tongue. She makes a face at him― at the road, really― and says, "You think they'd keep you on the force if you were some kind of one-armed wonder? Look forward to a lifetime of filing."

"Fine," Jared says, "whatever. I'll keep going."

"Damn straight. But you don't have to go back until Monday, so count that as a win."

"Yeah. Minus the hourly exercises. I have to swing my arms around like a bat."

"Right," Meg says, turning onto his street. "Wanna see a movie tomorrow night? That Rowan Atkinson one just came out."

"I can't," Jared says, beaming, "I have a date." _Ask me about it_ , he wills her.

"With who?"

"The nurse from the hospital."

"You do not." Meg parks the car and takes off her seat belt.

"Do too," Jared says. "Second date."

"No shit." She turns to look at him, decently impressed. He grins. "That's awesome."

"I'm kind of awesome," Jared says, and struggles a little getting out of the car. His shoulder feels stiffer now than it did before, aching at the edges, but he's sworn to PT Amy that he'll do his exercises three times a day every day, even when he's meeting with her. Meg follows him up to the apartment, and gives both dogs a hello pat. "Feel like staying for dinner tonight instead?"

  
  


Jensen pulls up to Jared's building right on time the next night in an old, green pick-up truck. Jared kind of figured him for a compact-car kind of guy. He catches sight of Jensen from the window and allows himself a moment of open-mouthed surprise at how good he looks dressed up, wearing a blazer over a blue button-down, and dark, slim-fitting jeans. Jared buzzes him in almost before Jensen rings the bell, and a minute later he's standing in Jared's doorway with a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

"Waiting by the phone?" he asks, teasing, as the dogs come running up to sniff the newcomer.

"Oh shut up and come in," Jared says. "I just need to embarrass myself trying to put on a coat and I'll be ready."

He watches out of the corner of his eye as Jensen kneels to pet both dogs, rubbing their heads easily and affectionately, and then stands again to look around Jared's living room. The coat goes on more easily than Jared expected, and he drapes the other side over his bad shoulder and pats his pockets for his keys and wallet.

"Your place is nice," Jensen says as he steps into the hall again. "You live here alone?"

"Just me and the kids," Jared says, pushing the dogs back again and closing the door behind him quickly. At Jensen's raised eyebrow, he says, "The dogs, I mean. Obviously. I don't― have real kids." He blushes. He sounds like a moron.

When they reach the car, Jensen opens the passenger side door for him, and bites his lip charmingly when Jared meets his eyes for a moment before climbing in. The cab is higher than he's used to and clambering in one-handed doesn't make him look particularly graceful, but he manages. The hand Jensen puts on his back doesn't hurt.

"So Chris is a friend from college," Jensen says as he gets into the truck and starts it up. He turns and puts a hand on the back of Jared's seat, looking over his shoulder to back out of the driveway. "His music's kind of― 'eclectic' might be a good word, so if you hate it we can leave."

"No," Jared protests, "I promise to suffer to the end."

Jensen fixes him with a stern look, but then he laughs. "Listen, I'd rather take you home early after a mediocre date than spend all evening watching you _suffer._ "

"Fair enough," Jared agrees.

They drive in silence for a while, the radio playing quietly between them. They're headed for a part of town Jared doesn't frequent much, neither during his regular life or on the beat. He bounces his knee restlessly and tries to ignore the awkwardness of wearing his seat belt with his sling, and Jensen hums along to the music without seeming to notice.

"What's it like working nights?" Jared asks after a few minutes.

"Um, it's okay," Jensen says, glancing at him. His hands look good wrapped around the steering wheel, and Jared sneaks another peek at them when Jensen turns back at the road. "It sucked at first, but I just had to get used to the rhythm."

"What do you usually do when you don't have work?"

Jensen makes a noise, something like derision. "Watch a lot of movies. We go out occasionally, but it's hard to get excited about a bar when you've just had breakfast."

"Who's we?" Jared asks.

"Danneel and me. People from work. Other night-shifters." Jensen shrugs. "My social life kind of sucks."

"Naw," Jared says.

"A little," Jensen insists. "But hey, I get out some." He winks at Jared. Jared likes the winking. It might be stupid for him to do, but it works for Jensen. "You never had a night beat, or, whatever?"

Jared snorts. "I got lucky. I did my rookie training with a guy, Jim, who had done enough time on the force to get to pick whatever shift he wanted, and then once that was over he put in a good word and I started riding with my partner Chad Murray from 8 to 4."

"Not bad," Jensen says. He's been working his way into narrower and narrower streets for about five minutes, and talking about his job has put Jared a little into the mindset. He hasn't been out in the cruiser in ages, and now he looks out the window at the darkened streets with intent. "It's not a bad part of town," Jensen promises, pulling into a parking spot, "but take your wallet in with you."

"Duh," Jared says, unbuckling himself awkwardly. He takes long enough that Jensen makes it around the truck and opens the door. "Do that too much and I'll start to worry," Jared warns.

"Sorry," Jensen says, rolling his eyes, "you're right, chivalry should stay dead."

Their destination is a hole in the wall bar with a little stage and a low hum of conversation. The lighting is dim and reddish, and it takes Jared's eyes a minute to adjust. It smells like cigarette smoke and spilled liquor, the way a bar should smell. Jensen starts to move ahead of him into the crowd, and Jared follows, suddenly hyper-aware of his injured shoulder in the crush of people. Jensen reaches back to take his hand, then, warm fingers curling around Jared's, and Jared lets himself be pulled in the direction of the stage.

"They should be going on soon," he promises in Jared's ear, pulling Jared close so Jared can hear him over the filler music the bar is playing.

"Hey, can you―" Jared feels stupid asking. "Can you stand on my left?"

"Wh―" Jensen starts, but he looks at Jared's shoulder and smiles. "Yeah, of course." He maneuvers himself carefully around Jared until he's on his left and slightly behind him, protecting the shoulder from any kind of accidental contact.

"Thanks," Jared says, turning his head to meet Jensen's bright eyes.

"No problem," Jensen says. He ducks his chin a little and Jared feels the touch of his hand on the small of his back. "Thanks for coming."

"You bet," Jared says, smiling. "I've been looking forward to it all week."

"I just hope you don't hate it."

"I'm not gonna hate it," Jared says, "I swear. Or, how about, lemme decide whether I hate it, and I'll let you know?"

"Fine," Jensen says, blowing out a breath. "Okay." Jared pokes him gently in the stomach with his right hand and Jensen's anxious expression melts into a smile. "I feel bad introducing you to my friends when I've only been out with you once― like I'm intimidating you."

Jared snorts. "Please," he says, puffing out his chest, "I'm a police officer. I get shot. Nothing scares me."

The filler music in the bar goes dead, and at the same moment the curtain at the back of the stage shifts. Out come two guys dressed somewhat ostentatiously in genuine cowboy hats and boots. The first one has shoulder-length hair and a guitar under his arm, and the other is carrying an accordion and has a harmonica in his mouth. Fortunately for Jensen, this is just the kind of music Jared indulges in every once in a while. He beats his good hand against his thigh in applause, and Jensen grins at him, the smile lighting up his face.

When they start playing, Jensen tucks his thumb into Jared's belt loop, so casual Jared might mistake it for unconscious if it weren't for the way Jensen bites his lip when he does it. He leans back into Jensen, just as casual, letting the music settle them closer together.

It wraps around them smoothly, fitting in with the atmosphere of the bar, and Jared sneaks peeks at Jensen, watching him enjoy it. Jensen sings along to a few of the songs, knows the covers the way the duo does them, and grins self-consciously when he catches Jared watching. Midway through the set he gives Jared a pat on the good shoulder and slips away into the crowd, leaving Jared standing alone. The guy with the guitar spots them just as Jensen's returning with two glasses of soda, and Jensen good-naturedly gives the musician the finger.

The band takes a break, and in the lull Jensen says, "Chris and I played together a little in high school, but he and Jason just— they have chemistry on stage." He looks a little wistful. Jared doesn't blame him. What guy _doesn't_ want to be in a band at some point in life?

"What do you play?" he asks.

"Guitar," Jensen says. "I have an acoustic and an electric, but Danneel won't let me have an amp in the apartment. It's too small, and our neighbors are too close."

"You should play for me," Jared says, leaning in again. Jensen smiles, coy and sexy, and Jared knows he's doing it on purpose. Musicians are hot.

"I'd like to," Jensen says. He almost says something else, but it's drowned out by the crowd's applause as the duo take the stage again. Jared grins at Jensen, shaking his head, _don't worry about it_ , and Jensen puts his arm back around Jared's waist like it's meant to be there.

  
  



	2. Part II

Jensen gets them backstage after the show, and the two musicians envelop him in enthusiastic hugs. Jared hangs back, feeling silly, looking ridiculous in the sling, until Jensen reaches back to take his other arm.

"Jared, this is Chris," Jensen says, and Jared shakes hands with the guitarist, "and Jason. This is Jared."

"Good to meet you," Chris says. His grip is firm, leaning a little towards threatening, and Jared squeezes back. Jason's handshake is less deliberate, but no less friendly.

"Great show," Jared says, hoping flattery will get him somewhere with Jensen's friends. "Really enjoyed it." He catches Jensen's eye and Jensen smiles, ducks his head. It's true, though, and Chris seems to hear that in his voice.

"Glad you came out," Chris says. He turns to Jensen and claps him on the shoulder, looking truly pleased as he does it. "And you, pal. Glad you could make it."

"Sure," Jensen says, shrugging. "Anytime, I told you."

"We need people like him in the crowd," Chris tells Jared, his hand still resting on Jensen's shoulder, "just in case no one else shows up."

They exchange a few more pleasantries, Jensen visibly relaxing as Chris and Jason don't badger Jared too much about being his date, and Jared slips casually out of the conversation, standing just to the side, looking interested but not required to participate. Soon though, Jensen moves towards him almost unconsciously as he's talking, and Jared can tell he's trying either to include him, or leave.

Chris picks the latter for him, and says, "Well don't let us keep you from your night out," and grins, shooing Jensen away. "Thanks for coming, man. I'll see you later. Jared, it was good to meet you."

When they finally leave the bar most of the crowd is already gone, and the street is quiet. The air is crisp and cool for mid-September, and Jared's glad he brought his coat, even if he looks like an awkward bird trying to put it back on. The bouncer is smoking a cigarette by the door, and Jensen pauses when they're out of earshot. Jared turns back when he realizes Jensen isn't beside him anymore, and finds Jensen rising up on the balls of his feet, deciding something. He waits, and Jensen says, "So, you wanna― come back to my place for a drink?"

"I can't drink," Jared says mournfully, nodding towards his injured arm. "It interferes with the painkillers and the―"

"I know you can't drink; I'm a nurse," Jensen says, laughing nervously. "Lemme rephrase that." He bites his lip and looks up into Jared's face. "I meant to ask, you wanna come back to my place for a blowjob?"

His frankness takes Jared aback, and for a second he just stares, wide-eyed. Jensen starts to blush.

"Oh, fuck, I just said that," Jensen says, putting a hand over his eyes. "Oh my god. There's a reason they don't let me out of the hospital too often."

Jared recovers, heart already pounding at the very idea, and reaches out. He tucks two fingers behind Jensen's belt buckle and gives a little tug so Jensen has to step towards him. "I think they should let you out more," he says, putting his mouth near Jensen's ear. Jensen lets out a breath, shaky and excited. Jared pulls him even closer, slots their hips together, and says, "Because I'm game."

Jensen swallows hard and nods. In the low light from the front of the bar Jared can see his eyelashes like dark smudges on his cheeks, the arch of his cheekbones, the curve of his lips. He's so beautiful that Jared wants to have him right there. He can't, though, so he steps away. Jensen teeters like he was held up by Jared's closeness and then regains his balance, grinning. He gives himself a little shake and Jared turns away to lead him back to the truck.

He looks like he wants to offer Jared a hand into the truck when he unlocks the doors, but Jared shakes his head. If he touches Jensen again he won't bother to keep himself in check, and the privacy of Jensen's apartment would be the best place for the things he wants to do to him.

"Your roommate," he says, when Jensen climbs in the other side.

"Visiting her parents," Jensen says, starting the truck. He pulls out of the parking spot carelessly, more quickly than strictly necessary, and when Jared raises an eyebrow he shrugs. "You got me kinda worked up."

" _Me?_ " Jared demands. "You're the one― hey Jared, come home with me so I can suck your dick. I got _you_ worked up, yeah right." He likes making Jensen smile like that, pleased and embarrassed all at once, ducking his head like Jared won't see. "How far is it?"

"Five minutes," Jensen says. He's still breathing erratically, and his knees are spread wide, and Jared would bet if he put his hand in Jensen's lap he'd find him at least half-hard. His left arm is held tight to his chest, though, so he'll have to make do with the other hand. Awkward.

He reaches across anyway, leaning on his bad shoulder in a way that makes it twinge, and gets his hand on Jensen's leg. Jensen's thigh is warm and firm under his palm, hard with muscle, and Jensen probably wasn't being facetious when Jared asked if he worked out. Jensen curses under his breath and spreads his legs a little farther, but Jared can't reach, not without putting more pressure on his shoulder.

"Fuck," he says, sitting back. "I wanna touch you so bad."

"You're―" Jensen says, slanting him a look. "Don't make me speed, Jared. You'd have to give me a ticket."

"Hey," Jared says, "I am not a traffic cop. And I'm not on duty."

"Do you have your badge?"

"Hell yeah."

Jensen grins. He stops at a stoplight and turns to Jared. "You know that's kind of hot, right?"

"Only kind of?"

"Okay, really hot," Jensen says, and after a pause in which he stares at Jared's mouth, he starts to lean across the space between them.

The car behind them honks, and Jared says, "Green light."

"God damn―" Jensen swears, and accelerates. He makes a left at the next light, and they drive for a short while down a quieter street. Then a right, and they're pulling into a little parking lot in front of a set of four low, charming brick buildings. Jared scrambles out of the truck as fast as he can, blood pounding through his body, and Jensen catches him on the stairs in front of building three.

"C'mere," he says, grabbing Jared's hand and sliding his arm around his waist under his coat. Jared takes a breath and slows down, skimming his hand up Jensen's arm to curl his fingers around the back of Jensen's neck, and leans in slowly. Jensen's lips part, anticipating, and Jared kisses him like that, tongue flickering out. Jensen sighs, arm tightening, and kisses back. His mouth is soft and wet, just a hint of teeth, and he tastes like cola and mint gum. He kisses slowly, like he's got nowhere better to be, sliding his tongue into Jared's mouth and then backing off, letting him follow. He bites Jared's lower lip gently, teasing, and Jared feels Jensen's fingers clench in the back of his t-shirt as he tries to get Jared even closer. Jared opens his eyes just for a moment, just to look, and Jensen's just as sexy as he pictured him, eyes closed, lost in the kiss.

Jared can feel him, hard against his thigh, and he tips his hip to put pressure between Jensen's legs. Jensen groans softly and rocks against him, spreading his thighs.

"Let's get inside," Jared offers, against his mouth, and Jensen opens his eyes. They're dark with want, heavy-lidded, and Jensen steals one more kiss before letting go of Jared's shirt to dig in his pocket for his keys. When he disengages from Jared's grip to unlock the door, Jared sidles up behind him, presses his own erection against Jensen's ass, and kisses the back of his neck.

"Oh fuck," Jensen says, shuddering, missing the lock. "That's― ohh, right there." Jared kisses him again, drags his teeth, soothes the spot with his tongue. Jensen jams the key into the lock and wrestles the door open. His hands are trembling. Jared takes one in his hand and brings it back over Jensen's shoulders to kiss his knuckles.

"Lead the way," he says, letting go, and Jensen grabs the corner of his coat and drags him up the couple of stairs to the tiny foyer. He opens the second door, the one marked _B_ and closes it conscientiously behind them.

"How's your shoulder?" Jensen asks as he flicks on the living room light. His voice is rough and it makes Jared shiver.

"It's fine," Jared says, shucking his coat. Jensen takes the coat and hangs it on the rack beside the door, and then pushes Jared up against the same door. He kisses now like he's hungry for it, aching, can't wait to get Jared naked. His body is warm and firm, pressed against Jared's, and Jared can feel every inch of him. Ever inch of his dick, too, which is hard and obvious in his pants, and Jared wishes his left hand was free so he could get it between them. Instead he flattens that hand against his own ribs and lets Jensen press them as close as they can get while he puts his tongue as far down Jared's throat as he possibly can. Jared slides the fingers of his other hand up into Jensen's short hair, drags them until Jensen groans, and then pauses at the nape of his neck when Jensen gives a full-body shudder at the touch.

Jensen breaks the kiss, panting, and tips his head forwards. Jared scrapes gently with his fingernails and Jensen's hips hitch against his own as Jensen moans, "Oh, yeah." Jared wants to put his mouth back on that spot, and fuck would that be a good one to exploit when he's fucking Jensen from behind. Just pull Jensen up and back and hold him with one arm across his chest, biting at the sensitive back of his neck as he pounds into him.

"Enough," Jensen gasps, pulling back. He looks Jared in the eye, rakes a hand through Jared's too-long hair, and kisses him roughly again. "Wanna suck you."

"Yeah," Jared says, almost a whisper. The apartment is quiet― it's late, Jared sees the clock in the kitchen reading _12:03am_ ― and the world outside is dark― the light makes it impossible to see out the window― and he feels a little like this is too exposed. "Your room?" he offers.

"Right," Jensen agrees, but he's not moving away. Instead, he's sliding down Jared's body until he's on his knees, hands bracketing Jared's hips, his face level with Jared's straining erection.

"Jensen," Jared pleads, as Jensen cups him through his jeans, rubbing his cheek against Jared's thigh. He's tracing the outline of Jared's dick with his strong fingers.

"You think we should move?" he asks.

"Probably," Jared says, breathless. Jensen's touch is teasing, not firm enough, and Jared wants to push his hips up into his hand. Jensen bends his head as he arches, pressing his warm, open mouth to the head of Jared's dick through the fabric and exhaling, and Jared changes his mind right there. "Okay, never mind."

Jensen murmurs something, the vibrations right against Jared's cock sending a shiver up his spine. Jensen nuzzles harder, drags with his teeth, fingers finding their way between Jared's legs to the weight of his balls and then the dip of his crack. Jared spreads his thighs farther apart, bracing himself against the door, to give Jensen room.

"You smell so fucking good," Jensen says, starting to open Jared's belt, "I just wanna― Christ."

"I showered today," Jared offers, because he's not sure how to answer a compliment like that. Jensen laughs, grinning up at Jared, and unzips his pants.

"Hygiene is important," he agrees, and Jared lifts his hips away from the door again to let Jensen pull his jeans down to mid-thigh. He wants to kiss some more, wants to lay Jensen out on the bed― or the sofa, he'd accept the sofa as substitute― and kiss him until he's shaking, moaning, grinding against Jared, desperate. Still, he looks good on his knees, pulling Jared's cock out of his boxers, and maybe Jared can have his make-out session another time.

 _Please,_ he thinks suddenly, knees feeling weird and weak, _let there be another time._ There's no way he can walk away from this man just yet.

Jensen stabilizes him, one hand low on his belly, the other wrapped around the base of his cock. His mouth is half-open, eyes half-shut, tongue wetting his lower lip as he contemplates Jared's erection. Jared's stomach turns over― unused to the scrutiny― but Jensen just smiles and dips forwards to take the head into his mouth.

It's warm and wet and fucking _perfect,_ and Jensen makes this noise like he's never tasted anything better and sucks him deeper, cheeks going hollow. Jared groans, pleasure rippling through him, and gives in to the urge to push Jensen a little farther, pressure on the back of his head. Jensen digs his fingers into the soft part of Jared's belly and sucks harder, and then pulls off.

"Is that okay?" Jared asks, wishing he would remember to be more polite.

"Yes," Jensen says, and clears his throat. "I'll let you know if it's not, I promise."

"'Kay," Jared agrees, and loses his breath when Jensen slides his tongue slowly up the sensitive underside of his dick. Then Jensen sucks him down again, and Jared tips his head back against the door and closes his eyes. He feels unsteady with only one hand free, but he makes the most of it, pressing Jensen down until he feels him hesitate, and then letting him bob up and down. Jensen's making little pleased noises and not trying to stifle the wet sound of Jared's cock sliding in and out of his mouth, and it's making Jared ache with want. He's so fucking wet, spit and pre-come slicking the way, and he lets go of Jensen's head to thumb the corner of Jensen's stretched mouth. It comes away slippery, and Jensen doesn't protest when Jared rubs his thumb dry on his jaw, just tilts his head into it and pauses to swallow.

Jared pushes him away gently, and pulls him to his feet. Jensen wipes his fingers across his mouth, and Jared catches his hand. He twines their fingers together and kisses him, and Jensen's mouth is slick and salty with the taste of his cock. Jared growls and presses himself closer, letting go of Jensen's hand to wrap his arm around his waist and haul him in. His cock gets trapped between them, the denim of Jensen's jeans rough and chafing, and Jensen sinks his hands into Jared's hair and dominates the kiss. He drags Jared where he wants him, tongue sliding into his mouth, mapping, claiming, and Jared groans and opens up for him. He wants everything Jensen has to give him.

Jensen lets go and Jared sags back against the door. If they were anywhere near a bed, he'd be able to strip down, take his sling off, but Jensen seems determined to do this right here on the floor. Jared's pretty okay with that, and he wraps his hand around his jutting cock and gives it a slow stroke just to make sure. Yup, better than okay.

Stripping off his shirt, Jensen takes over where Jared leaves off, jacking him slowly while Jared runs his hand up Jensen's taut stomach instead. His skin is warm, tanned everywhere and freckled across his shoulders. His nipples are dark and hard, and Jensen sucks in a breath when Jared thumbs one. Jared wonders if he's just as tan below the belt, and decides freckles would be just as satisfying. Jensen's undoing his belt with his other hand, still working Jared slowly. It's pleasant, but not enough to get him off, so Jared spreads his knees and pumps his hips up into Jensen's grip, rubbing Jensen's nipple deliberately beneath his fingertips.

"Fuck," Jensen mutters, yanking open his pants. They're tight enough that Jared pities his cock, trapped down the left leg, and he echoes Jensen's moan when Jensen shimmies them down and frees himself, cock red and fat in his fist. Jared's caught in indecision, wanting to get a hand on that cock but loving the way Jensen's got his lower lip trapped between his teeth from the stimulation on his nipple. He leans forward again to kiss Jensen, freeing his lip, and gives him one last pinch that makes him jump. Then Jensen's dick fits neatly into his hand, hot and hard and twitching at his touch.

Jensen's breath stutters out of him, and Jared looks down to watch their hands moving together as they jack each other off. His cock feels huge, the slit dripping pre-come over Jensen's knuckles, the head swollen and so sensitive. Jensen's cock is smaller than his, but not by much, and curves up a little. Jensen hunches his shoulders and groans in his throat when Jared slips his fingers over the head, and drops his head back with a sigh when Jared lets go to cup his heavy balls in his hand.

"What do you want to do?" Jared asks softly, teasing the seam of Jensen's sac with his thumb. He leans forwards and kisses Jensen's bared throat, licks a wet trail to the cut of his collarbone and bites down slowly.

"You should fuck me," Jensen says, giving Jared's dick a squeeze. "Think it'd be easier on your shoulder."

Jared 'hmm's, and kisses the spot he's been worrying, making Jensen shiver. "Such a gentleman," he says against his skin, "so practical."

Jensen cups the back of Jared's head and presses a distracted kiss to his temple. It's so sweet and casual, and it makes Jared's stomach turn over. He doesn't want this to be a fast fuck on the floor.

"Let's go to your room," he says, lifting his lips to Jensen's ear. "I don't wanna see how mad I can make your neighbors right now."

"Okay," Jensen agrees, finally, and he kisses Jared's cheek and mouth. "Fuckin' furious."

Their trip to the bedroom is not very graceful, nor very dignified, both of their pants undone and Jensen shirtless. Jared eases his arm out of the sling and ignores the little twinge as he straightens it, and then Jensen's turning around just inside the doorway and helping him unbutton his shirt. It slides easily down his arms and falls in a heap at his feet, and Jensen looks thoughtfully at his healing shoulder.

He touches the wound carefully with his fingertips, brushing over it so softly, and Jared shivers. It's still sore when he moves it, and his range of motion is almost nil without PT Amy's help, but it doesn't hurt when Jensen ducks his head and presses a kiss just above where the bullet went in. When Jensen glances up at Jared, his eyes are dark.

"Hero," he accuses, and Jared kisses him.

"Idiot," he counters. "Just got in the way."

"Semantics," Jensen says. He lets go and backs away, headed for the bed. The room is small, so the bed takes up most of the wall with the window. The rest of the space is normal bedroom fare, but Jared's attention catches on the narrow bookshelf in the corner, crammed full of paperbacks. He has the urge to go read all their spines to see what Jensen's into, but he's got Jensen pulling on the front of his open jeans, dragging him towards the bed.

Jared sinks to his knees when Jensen sits down, and Jensen lifts his hips and helps Jared get his pants down. He spreads his knees obligingly when Jared gives him a push, and leans back on his elbows. His cock stands out from his body, swollen and hard, and Jared wraps a hand around it and rubs his lips over the wet head. Jensen groans, hips rising off the bed a fraction, and Jared lets his cock slide deeper into his mouth.

"Stop," Jensen says, "stop, I'm gonna come if I let you do that."

Jared lets him slip from his mouth and kisses his muscled thigh. He gives Jensen one more firm stroke for good measure, thumbing the head, and Jensen pushes him away.

"Get naked," Jensen demands.

Jared rocks back on his heels and stands, divesting himself of the rest of his clothes while Jensen fumbles in his nightstand and comes up with a thing of lube and a fistful of condoms.

"I don't know if I'm up to that," Jared says, pointing, and Jensen gives him the finger.

"Oh shut up," he says. "They're attached."

Jared watches, rapt, as Jensen lays back on the bed and slides the fingers of his other hand between his legs. His hole is tight and pink and perfect, and he circles it with his fingertip before pressing it inside, making Jared's breath catch. Jared kneels on the bed between Jensen's spread thighs and slides one hand up to hook behind his knee. Jensen drops his upper body heavily on the bed and Jared watches as he works a second finger into his ass, sliding them as deep as he can at the angle. His face is flushed beautifully, his short hair sticking up all over the place, and Jared can't wait to get up close and personal.

He leans over Jensen, supporting himself carefully on one hand, keeping the other close to his chest. His useless shoulder makes everything a trial, but Jensen doesn't seem to notice. He arches up into Jared's roving mouth, unoccupied hand finding its way to Jared's abdomen, and his moans are quiet and almost unconscious. He's fucking himself on three fingers now, and when Jared straightens up again to get a better look, he says, "Okay, okay."

"Ready?"

Jensen slides his fingers out with a wet squelch, and he wraps them around Jared's cock. "When you are." His grip is firm and intentional, and Jared thrusts into his grip.

"Wait," he says, unable to open the much-needed condom foil with one hand. "Jesus, I can't. Fuck."

"It's okay," Jensen says, taking it from him and opening it. "It's cool."

"Sorry," Jared says, smoothing his hand down Jensen's chest and hanging his head. Jensen curls his legs around Jared's knees as he rolls the condom on, and sits up to kiss him softly on the mouth.

"It's all good," he says, smiling innocently. "Gimpy."

"Oh," Jared says, and pushes him flat on his back again, "now you've done it."

"Have I?" Jensen asks, all sass, but he's breathing fast now, pulling his knees apart and opening himself up for Jared's dick. His own cock is heavy against his belly, flushed with blood, and he takes it in hand as Jared lines himself up. Jared doesn't press in right away though, liking the look of Jensen waiting on him, and he rubs the covered head of his dick against Jensen's stretched hole. Jensen hisses, gritting his teeth and arching his back again, and Jared ignores him, sliding his cock up and down the groove of his ass.

"Fucking," Jensen says, "do it. Jared, come on, man."

"Hmm?" Jared asks, pressing firmly against his asshole, but not hard enough. Jensen whines, grabbing for Jared's hip.

"Put it in," he says, "jerk. Fuck me, god, I fucking need it."

He sounds wrecked, desperate, and Jared snaps his hips forwards and sinks in to the hilt on Jensen's drawn-out moan. He can't breathe for a second, and Jensen's already squirming, trying to bear down on his dick. It's so good, but it's not going to work, shit, goddamn it. He can't fuck Jensen like this.

"Turn over," he says, pulling out and shaking with the need to be back inside him. "My fucking arm."

"Okay," Jensen says instantly, rolling on his stomach and pushing himself up on his knees. "Okay, yes, this is good too."

The view is just as excellent from here, Jared decides, pressing in again and reaching out for a grip on Jensen's opposite shoulder. The line of his spine is fucking poetry, and the muscles in his shoulders beg for Jared's mouth. His waist is narrow and his ass is tight and round, and Jared lets go to smacks him lightly for good measure. He can't let an ass like this go unappreciated.

Jensen snorts, laughing into the sheets, and Jared thrusts once, hard, to shut him up. The laugh dissolves into a sharp moan, and Jensen turns his head to look at Jared over his shoulder. His mouth is half-open, pink and beautiful, and his eyes are hazy. Jared starts to rock his hips back and forth, sliding out and deep again, and Jensen closes his eyes and bites his lower lip. Jared smacks him again, a little harder, making him jerk, and then he carefully fits both hands to the curve of Jensen's hips and starts to fuck him.

He's perfection, Jared decides, as Jensen muffles his groan of pleasure. His hole is stretched wide around Jared's dick, and if Jared had two good hands he'd be all over that, rubbing and teasing and making Jensen really feel it. As it is, though, he keeps a tight grip on Jensen's hip with one and pulls him back against his pelvis with every thrust. Jensen's helping, spreading his knees and rocking with him, working himself on Jared's cock. Jared risks moving his injured arm and spreads his left hand across Jensen's back.

"So good," Jensen tells him from where he has his elbows on the blanket and his face buried between them. He arches his back, changing the angle of Jared's thrusts slightly. "Fuck, it's so good."

Jared lets go of his hip and wraps his arm around Jensen's chest instead, pulling him back against him. Jensen widens his knees and puts his head back on Jared's shoulder, and Jared kisses him sideways. The kiss is sloppy, uncoordinated, and Jensen bites his lower lip hard, panting desperately, jerking himself with one free hand while the other reaches back to hold the back of Jared's good shoulder for leverage.

Jensen smirks at him, licks his lips and arches his back, and Jared spreads his knees and works his hips slowly, grinding and rocking until Jensen's smirk is replaced by slack pleasure. Jared ducks his head to put his mouth against the back of Jensen's neck, and Jensen's reaction is immediate and gratifying. He shudders, groaning, and he tips his head forwards to bare his neck to Jared. Jared sucks a mark into the soft place behind Jensen's ear, and Jensen whines. He jerks himself faster, breath hitching. Against his skin, Jared murmurs, "You gonna come for me?"

"Oh for fuck's―" Jensen says, breathless, and Jared speeds up, hips thrusting deep, until Jensen's pulling away, trying to change the angle. Jared lets him go and he falls on his elbow, buries his face against the sheets, and Jared can barely hear him whispering, "Oh fuck, oh fuck me, oh," and then louder, "Yes, now, yes."

"Come on," Jared says, and he's chasing his own orgasm now. It's building fast and bright behind his eyes, tightening his balls and swelling his cock. He feels huge, and amazing, and Jensen groans, "Oh yeah," and tightens all over. He's almost silent as he comes, panting harshly, eyes closed and mouth open, and Jared wants to kiss him right now.

So he does, bending over Jensen with one hand on the bed and kissing his neck, his cheek, and his mouth. Jensen moans and arches his back, and Jared comes suddenly, reaching his peak with shocking force, groaning against Jensen's shoulder. His cock throbs inside Jensen, spurting, filling the condom, and Jensen wriggles and sighs and grips Jared's thigh with one strong hand.

Jared's shoulder aches at the position, but he ignores it for the sake of kissing Jensen's temple and feeling him smile. Jensen goes a bit limp beneath him then, signal loud and clear, so Jared straightens up and pulls out. Jensen winces and collapses, rolling onto his side as Jared gets up to get rid of the condom.

When he comes back, Jensen is lying where he left him, half-curled on the bed, looking utterly relaxed. He reaches for Jared without opening his eyes, and Jared crawls into his arms and ends up in the wet spot.

"I um," Jensen says, kissing him softly on the mouth and blinking at him, "I hate to do this to you, but I― it's kind of the middle of the day, for me. Lunch time."

"You hungry?" Jared asks, biting Jensen's lip.

"Starving," Jensen says, laughing, and he traces a pattern on Jared's bare chest with his fingertips. "I'm just thinking, you probably won't want to stay, since I've gotta stay up."

"Do you have to?" Jared asks, already imagining how awesome waking up next to Jensen would be.

"My schedule will get all screwed up," Jensen sighs, and rolls onto his back. Jared keeps a hand on his abdomen, feeling possessive, and Jensen smiles wanly at him. "I've gotta do stuff, boring stuff. Laundry. I'll take you home."

"Okay," Jared says. He sits up and glances around, looking for his abandoned clothes.

"Hey," Jensen says, putting a hand on his back and curling an arm around him. "If I didn't work nights, I'd ask you to stay."

"It's okay," Jared says, "I promise."

"Thanks for coming to the concert," Jensen says, and he's got his arms around Jared now like he really doesn't want him to leave.

"Thanks for taking me," Jared says, and turns to wrap Jensen in the closest hug he can manage. He kisses him slowly, one hand in his hair, until he's smiling again. Then he pulls away and revels in the bright grin, and says, "Okay, now I can go."

It's almost one thirty by the time Jensen drops him off, and Jared manages another lingering kiss on the doorstep, his right hand in Jensen's back pocket. Jensen murmurs, "We should― again. Soon."

"Soon," Jared agrees.

Jared has enough motion in his shoulder by the following Monday to drive to work. It still hurts, and every day the stretches aggravate it, but PT Amy has assured him that a little pain is okay. He thinks about what she said about muscle fibers aligning, and forces himself to use both arms to steer. He's still not allowed on patrol, though, so he only sees Chad and Abel in passing: heading out as he comes in.

"Hey buddy," Chad says, reaching out to clap him on the back. "How's it coming?"

Jared shrugs and flexes his elbow for show. "It's coming," he says. "How was your date last week?"

Chad grins, and Abel rolls his eyes. He's probably heard it all before, and will hear it again before the day is over. Chad says, "Great, man, she's totally into me."

"I want details," Jared says, "not graphic ones. Maybe get to meet her?"

"Yeah," Chad says, looking thoughtful. Jared doesn't always try to meet Chad's girlfriends since they come and go so quickly, but it's been a while and he hasn't heard anything about strife or angst or boredom. She seems to be keeping Chad both entertained and in line. "Soon," Chad goes on, "we could do something. Bring your hot nurse or something."

"You? Suggesting a double date?" Jared asks, mostly-feigning shock. "She's putting something in your water."

Chad rolls his eyes. "Whatever," he says, sounding a little embarrassed, "she's a cool chick. Plus you and me should hang out." He reaches out to cuff Jared's shoulder again. "I miss you, dude."

It's the most sentimental thing Chad's ever said, and Jared can't help grinning. "Ditto," he says. It's true. It's only been about a month since the shooting, but since then he's been caught up with healing and paperwork and a potential romance. It's turned his life upside-down, and he's not sure how long it will be until it's all back to normal. Then again, maybe he's in for a new kind of normal.

Abel's tapping his foot and looking at his watch, and Chad heaves a sigh. "I gotta run," he says. "We're due out."

"Stay safe," Jared says, waving him away. "Don't get shot." Chad laughs on his way out the door, and Jared yells, "I hear it sucks!" after him.

He heads for his desk. It's seeing more action right now than it's ever seen before, even with his assignment to the Evidence room, and he's starting to get used to it. He's not sure he likes that. He's not meant to be a desk cop, which is why he spends all his time on the beat, which is essentially how he ended up shot in the first place, putting himself in danger. His mama would be so disappointed.

She probably is, a little bit. Jared has to remember to call her and update her on how he's doing, assuage her worries about his recovery.

The double date doesn't come to fruition immediately, mostly because Jared and Jensen can't quite find time. Jared's schedule is shifted slightly from Chad's since he's on desk duty, and Jensen's is awkward at the best of times. He's supposed to start at ten in the evening and get off at six in the morning, but sometimes he's delayed leaving because of some kind of minor emergency, and eight a.m. is not a particularly good time for a date for anyone anyway.

They do manage to find a Saturday that works when Jensen's got Sunday off too, but Chad's girl — Liz, Jared finally learns — can't make it because her brother is getting married in a few months and his fiancee wants to take Liz shopping to get to know her better. Chad doesn't understand how shopping can make people better acquainted, and Jared can't explain it to him. He may be gay, but he's not a woman. He understands women even less, he says, and Chad stops trying to make him explain.

But Jensen comes over anyway, and their third official date is spent walking Jared's dogs, and then eating sandwiches and watching a movie on Jared's couch.

It's the end of September, and Jared still counts that as summer, but Jensen's sweater is soft enough and cozy enough that he doesn't make fun for too long. All it takes is Jensen putting Jared's hand on his arm and saying, "No, seriously, feel it," and then Jared forgets about the sweater to back Jensen against the front door and _feel it_ until Jensen's breathless and laughing and asking if the dogs need to be walked right that minute.

They don't, actually. They're both lying on one of the two beds Jared bought them, in a pile, and only look up with a mild interest when Jared glances at them.

"No," Jared says, sliding both hands up and down Jensen's incredibly soft sides, "they can wait at least half an hour."

Jensen snorts. "You underestimate my stamina," he says.

"You overestimate mine," Jared replies, bending to kiss his neck and press himself more firmly against Jensen. "I've got you for, what, four hours? Five? We can time you later, show-off."

They have sex on Jared's enormous bed — Jensen calls it enormous, and Jared calls it appropriate — Jensen on his back and Jared kneeling across his lap, holding onto to one of Jensen's hands and gasping helplessly as Jensen fingers him open and then slides home. It's been a long time since he got fucked like this, and he'd forgotten how good it is. Jensen runs his free hand up and down Jared's chest, holds onto his hip and urges him on, and then finally, finally, jerks him off hard and fast as he reaches his own orgasm.

Afterwards, he kisses Jared's neck and shoulder, spends a moment on the pink and white starburst that is his wound, and glances at the clock.

"Think the dogs are ready?"

"Good god," Jared says, stretching carefully, "you really do have all the energy."

Jensen grins, bright and clear in the late morning sunlight. "It's an illusion," he says, smoothing a hand down Jared's bare stomach. "Let's go before it disappears."

His sweater is just as soft now as before, and Jared appreciates it all the more when he carefully slides his bad arm around Jensen's shoulders and Jensen obligingly tucks into his side, his arm around Jared's waist. They each have a dog on hand, and the mutts are weaving back and forth, sniffing everything. Andy's still running them every day, but their leisurely, exploratory walks are fewer and farther between.

"It's weird being the short one," Jensen says, giving Jared a squeeze.

Jared smiles. He gets that a lot, sure, but Jensen just sounds impressed. "I bet I could pick you up," Jared says, "if I weren't injured."

"You're not the Hulk," Jensen says, rolling his eyes, but Jared can see the faint blush rising in his cheeks. He likes the idea.

"Just you wait," Jared says, grinning. "Gimme a few months."

"Okay," Jensen agrees, just like that. "I'll hold you to it."

The dogs get a long walk to make up for the delay, and by the time they get back to the house Jared's starving. He makes lunch while Jensen stares out the window, looking a little dazed. He probably doesn't see midday much, Jared figures. They eat on the couch, Jensen a little reluctantly only because it's like a generous midnight snack, and settle in to watch a movie.

"You sure this is the way you want to spend your Saturday?" Jensen asks, already snug against Jared's side, his head on Jared's shoulder. Jared never wants to move again. "It's gorgeous out, you could be doing, you know. Real things."

"This is real things," Jared protests, and Jensen 'hmm's and shrugs. "Yes," Jared says, "this is how I want to spend my Saturday." He's not sure if he can make it any clearer.

"Fine," Jensen says, "but I might fall asleep."

"Go for it," Jared says, and kisses Jensen's temple. "I was built to be slept on."

Jensen doesn't fall asleep right away, nor does he mind Jared's inability to contain his running commentary. He even joins it, laughing at Jared's stupid jokes, and it isn't until about halfway through that he goes quiet. Jared ignores the movie in favor of watching him sleep, a rare treat, and running his fingers slowly through Jensen's hair. Jensen is a warm, heavy weight against his side, his one arm tucked around Jared's waist and the other trapped behind Jared's back, his cheek on Jared's shoulder. He showed up wearing glasses, which Jared had not expected and which he secretly thinks are ridiculously sexy, but he's taken them off and laid them carefully on the table. Jared traces the bones of his face with his fingertips, memorizing him, and after a while Jensen blinks slowly and lifts his head.

"Sorry," he says, obviously groggy.

"You warned me," Jared replies, smiling, and kisses him. Jensen kisses back, slightly uncoordinated, and Jared feels his heart squeeze tight at the thought of getting to have Jensen wake up beside him, even if it's just this once. They have sex right there on the couch while the movie runs ignored on the other side of the room, and Jared loves the feeling of Jensen's mouth on his neck as he comes.

"I should go," Jensen says eventually, reluctantly drawing away and reaching for his glasses. It's almost three o'clock, and probably really late for him to be still awake.

"Okay," Jared says. He hasn't had his fill of Jensen for the day, but he has to give him up. He follows Jensen's lead and gets dressed again, and sees him to the door. "You'll be okay to drive?"

"I'll be fine," Jensen says, and gives him another kiss. "Thanks for— whatever. Everything."

Jared raises his eyebrows. "For making you walk my dogs and showing you a movie that put you to sleep?"

Jensen laughs and socks him gently in the stomach, and Jared catches his hand and pulls him into his arms, locking them behind Jensen's back. His shoulder protests only mildly.

"Thanks for staying up for me," he says, pressing their foreheads together.

Jensen flushes, bites his lip. "Sure," he says.

"Okay, get out of here," Jared says, releasing him, and after he's gone down the stairs Jared watches his car drive away and feels alternately goofy and blissfully happy.

Jared remembers from previous relationships more going out and getting to know one another over meals, but Jensen's schedule makes that method awkward if not totally illogical. They have to find other ways to see each other— breakfast sometimes, early morning dog-walks and late-night movies on weekends— which is how Jared ends up at a fancy grocery store near Jensen's place, meeting him and Danneel while they do their weekly shopping. He's in the middle of sending Jensen a text asking where he is, when a pretty redhead stops him by the bagged lettuce and says, "You're Jared."

"Uh," he says, glancing around, "Yes." He kind of recognizes her.

"Danneel," the woman says, and Jared takes her proffered hand in his. Jared remembers seeing her when he was in the hospital, that's why she's familiar. "This is probably not Jensen's ideal situation for us to meet in, uncontrolled and all―" she grins slyly, and Jared wonders what kind of supervision she'd need― "but I thought, damn it, I need to meet this guy just so Jensen will shut up for one second."

"Oh, good," Jared says, and Jensen's there at Danneel's side suddenly, interrupting them.

"Hi!" he says, elbowing between Danneel and Jared. "Hi. What'cha talking about?"

"You," Danneel says easily, grinning at Jared, and Jensen makes an uncomfortable face.

"Nice things," Jared says. "How good you are at household chores."

"You guys are both assholes," Jensen announces, his green eyes bright behind his glasses. He has a little stubble on his chin and cheeks, and Jared manfully resists the urge to reach out and touch. Instead he grins back at Jensen and tugs him into a sideways hug.

"You like it," he says, and lets go. Danneel is beaming at them as Jensen straightens his t-shirt indignantly. As much as Jared likes seeing him in his scrubs, he also likes the casual Jensen, the one that showed up at his apartment last week, having gone home to shower, with carry out and a DVD and an apology on his lips about being late. Jared kissed him before he could finish his apology, because the night shift isn't his fault, and Jensen shook his head and laughed, shrugged off his coat and button-down and bummed around in his t-shirt and jeans.

"Why'd you get a cart?" Jensen asks.

"For show," Jared says. "You want it?"

"Okay," Jensen says, and nudges him aside. "You gonna get anything in particular?"

"I need cereal," Jared says as they wind their way through the produce, Danneel pausing to weigh tomatoes and hurrying to catch up again. "But I'm happy to follow y'all around and influence your choices."

"Great," Jensen says.

Danneel does manage to separate them after a while, in the chips and salsa aisle. One minute Jensen is beside him contemplating tortilla versus potato, and the next Jared is alone, and Danneel is crossing her arms and staring him in the eye.

"Listen," she says, "I'm betting Jensen dragged us to a public place so I couldn't intimidate you too badly."

Jared winces.

"But he's my boy, and I care about him, and I know you've only been seeing each other a little while―"

"Two and a half months," Jared interjects. "Give or take." Actually it's October, so it's been ten weeks, but who's counting.

Danneel raises her eyebrows at him. "Don't interrupt."

"Sorry."

"Be nice to him, is all."

"I am nice," Jared protests. "I like him a lot. I think we get along really well, and… I like him." He shrugs. "Don't worry about it."

"I do," Danneel says. "He's had a bad break-up or two―"

"Haven't we all," Jared says, thinking about Mark in college and immediately regretting associating Mark and Jensen even for an instant. Mark was a dick, and Jensen is awesome, and the only thing they have in common is that they are both men.

Danneel slaps his good arm. "So I'm just looking out for him."

"I know," Jared says. "That's your best-friend job, I get it."

"So we're clear?"

"Be nice," Jared repeats dutifully. "We're clear."

"God damn it, Danneel," Jensen says, making another miraculous appearance with the shopping cart and looking peeved. "Stop scaring my boyfriend away."

 _Boyfriend,_ Jared thinks, his heart picking up speed. He's grinning, he can't help it, and Jensen tucks a finger in his front pocket and tilts up for a kiss. Jared kisses him chastely, but Jensen lingers, and so he kisses him again. Danneel's right there, and they're in the middle of the store, but Jensen is warm and smells good and feels good and he doesn't seem to want to stop, so Jared kisses him some more.

"Okay," Danneel says finally, "you've made your point."

Jensen steps back, looking a little flushed, and Jared fights the urge to grab him back and kiss him until he's panting. Instead he swallows and angles his head towards the end of the aisle.

"So do y'all need chips or not?"

"No," Jensen says firmly, and pulls them both out of the aisle.

Jensen needs a break, Jared decides, looking him up and down at the coffee shop two weeks later. He's been working extra hours at the hospital, and it's wearing on him. He's got his head in his hand and a vacant look on his face, staring off towards the bathrooms and not seeing anything. He perks up a bit when Jared sits, and he reaches across the table to touch Jared's forearm.

"Hey," he says, "sorry. Long shift."

Jared lifts Jensen's hand and kisses his knuckles. "You look it. Doing okay?"

"Yeah," Jensen says, but his smile is tired. He's drinking tea, not coffee, which means he's been having trouble sleeping. "How are you?"

"Good," Jared says. He laces their fingers together on the table, rubbing his thumb over Jensen's. "I have to go to court soon about the shooting, give my testimony and stuff."

"They make you testify?"

"They asked me to," Jared says. "The DA wanted to hear from officers involved, and you don't really get more involved than this."

"How's it feel?" Jensen's got his head on his other hand now, ignoring the tea and just kind of gazing at Jared, eyes half-lidded. He raises his chin in the direction of Jared's shoulder, and Jared shrugs it carefully.

"Pretty good," he says. "Therapy's going well, according to PT Amy."

"I hope you don't call her that to her face," Jensen says, smiling again. He shakes himself and takes a deep breath.

"I don't," Jared protests. "I am very respectful."

"As you should be, to medical professionals."

"I am personally a big fan of medical professionals," Jared says, squeezing his hand.

"And I am enamored with law enforcement," Jensen says, and goes a little pink. "I mean."

"I know," Jared says, filling with glee, "I am enchanting. Don't take it too hard."

Jensen smirks. Then he sighs and rubs his eyes with the back of his free hand.

"Dude," Jared says, "get out of here. Go home."

"But―" Jensen protests. "I haven't seen you in ages."

"We'll do something soon," Jared says, letting go of his hand with a final squeeze. "When you're rested."

"Sleeping during the day is hard," Jensen says, getting up when Jared does. "It shouldn't be hard; I'm great at it by now."

"Yes dear," Jared says, and kisses him briefly. "You need me to drive you? I could drive you."

"Nah," Jensen says reluctantly. He glances outside at the faint morning light. "I can catch a bus in ten minutes."

"Lemme drive you." Jared takes Jensen's bag out of his unresisting hand and slings it over his shoulder. "Precinct doesn't need me."

Jensen agrees, and Jared calls Alona and Morgan on the way to his car. Alona tells him it's not a problem but Morgan sounds a little reluctant to let him come in late.

"I'm still not riding," Jared says, unlocking the car for Jensen. "You're the one who wanted me to stay off the streets forever. Alona said it was okay."

"Well if Officer Tal says," Morgan says, but he lets Jared do it anyway.

It's December, four months after the shooting, when Morgan finally clears Jared for duty and lets him back on patrol. Jared has almost forgotten how great it is to be allowed out of the precinct, and he and Chad can't stop high-fiving. They're acting like rookies, but it feels so good to be back in the cruiser. PT Amy has forbidden him to do any actual tackling of suspects, but he's allowed to run, and he's allowed to give speeding tickets, and that's satisfying enough for now.

The boys― Chad, Aldis, and Jake― take him out for drinks at the end of that first week on patrol, to celebrate his return to the living, his escape from desk duty, and his permission to drink again.

"You sure you haven't forgotten how to do this?" Aldis asks, considerately thumping him on the good shoulder. The bad one isn't so bad after all, but it still hurts to get a direct hit. Hence the rule against tackling.

"Murray's bringing me up to speed," Jared says, jostling his partner, "but then again, I'm not sure he ever learned the right way to do anything."

Chad gives him a shove that threatens to send half his beer into his lap, and they get into a minor scuffle that Aldis and Jake have to break up by putting ice down the back of both of their shirts. Jared shakes the ice out and laughs aloud, overwhelmed with gratitude that they haven't forgotten him. He hadn't realized how much he was missing by not being allowed out of the precinct― by not being one of the boys. He's been so focused on healing, and on Jensen, and he's been neglecting his friends. He's filled with relief that they're taking him back so smoothly.

It's easy to fall back into the rhythm of being on patrol. Some days are slow: minor traffic accidents to mediate and nothing exciting to report to Jensen when they talk at night. Once they get called in on a domestic dispute and manage to show up just in time to stop a fight before anyone gets hurt too badly.

Chad cuffs the guy and Jared helps wrestle him into the car and then goes back to talk to the woman. Her sister has shown up since Jared and Chad did, and she's protective enough that she almost won't let Jared get close to take her statement. Jared gets the sister to promise to take the woman to the hospital, just in case, and thinks with regret that he hasn't seen Jensen in a while. Even their few and far between coffee dates have fallen by the wayside in the face of Jensen's workload and Jared's shifting schedule, and it's gotten harder to find time for each other beyond their fairly regular phone calls.

"This feels like a long distance relationship," Jensen says one evening. He laughs, but Jared can hear the tension in his voice. "In the same city but I never see you."

"Let's go on vacation," Jared says, out of the blue. He hasn't considered it before this minute, but as he says it he decides it sounds like the best option. They could go skiing, if Jensen's into that, or they could head south to where it's warm and the beer is cheap. They could go sailing, but he'd have to ask Meg if her friend Allen still had his boat. They could just go to a fancy hotel and order room service and have a lot of sex.

"Vacation?" Jensen asks, bringing Jared out of the handful of plans already forming in his mind.

"Take a few days off, after Christmas or something, and we can go somewhere. I don't know. Just you and me for a bit."

"Okay," Jensen says after a moment, and Jared flushes with pleasure. Definitely lots of sex.

The downtown courthouse is nothing new for Jared, who has testified no less than six times on various cases, from traffic violations to armed robberies. This is the first time he's been directly involved in a case, however, and he's ignoring the nervousness settling in his stomach in favor of reminding himself that he is a police officer, and he has been shot. Plenty of people testify for less. When the guard comes to get him from the hallway, he adjusts his tie perfunctorily and goes to the stand with his back straight and his shoulders square.

There are pictures of the scene being shown, and Jared makes himself look at them over his shoulder as he explains the situation. There's a pool of blood in the alley that he knows, clinically, is his, but it doesn't quite compute. He's seen plenty of blood before. The three guys they managed to catch are being charged with possession with intent, conspiracy, firing on police officer, and therefore also attempted murder. Jared is, of course, the officer in question, and the jury hangs on his every word. He doesn't need to show them the wound to convince them that being shot is a shitty way to spend a weekend.

The charge for attempted murder doesn't stick. Some of the jury must think that being fired upon by police officers is reason enough to fire back, which is bullshit. Jared fumes in his seat, fingers twitching, but there's nothing he can do about it. The other charges do stick though, and in the end the three druggies are sentenced to five years with parole. It's not as satisfying as Jared hoped it would be.

He calls Meg and then his parents with the news. His mother rants about the inadequacy of the legal system for a few minutes before Jared finally says, "Ma, I am the legal system," and she subsides.

"We're just glad you're okay," she says, and Jared smiles despite himself. "When are you coming down for Christmas?"

Jensen drives Jared to the airport on December 23rd after his shift ends. Jared's flight is at ten, and he should be back in his childhood home by late afternoon. Meg and Jared's brother Jeff are already there, and the family is just waiting on him. Jensen lets him go with a deep, almost scandalous kiss outside Departures, smacks him on the ass, and says, "Knock 'em dead."

"It's just my parents!" Jared yells after him as he heads for the doors, and Jensen turns back to point his fingers like guns and laugh. Jared ignores the sideways looks of a few other travelers and watches his boyfriend go, grinning like an idiot.

The flight is short and uneventful, although his baggage takes an extra hour to make an appearance, and by that time his mom and dad have come looking for him. He wraps them both in big hugs, the use of his left arm almost totally restored, and by the time his bag finally rolls its lonely way down the conveyor belt, it's as if Jared never left home.

Meg and Jeff are out at the grocery store shopping for supper when Jared arrives, so he gets to have his parents to himself a little longer. He takes off his shirt to show them the wound, and his mother makes distressed noises and seems to want to do something about it, but it's pretty far out of her hands by now. Even his PT appointments are down to once every two weeks, he tells them, and those are only fifteen minutes long while PT Amy records his range of movement, assesses his healing from the outside somehow, and tells him he's doing well. He's allowed to run with the dogs again, and knock down perps, and he's had his firearm restored to him. He had to spend an hour every day for a week in the gun range, proving his shoulder could handle the stress of the recoil, before he was allowed to have it back. His weight training regimen is still off limits, and Chad's been teasing him that he's going soft, but he'll start that back up in a month or two, depending. It all reassures his mother somewhat.

When Meg and Jeff get back, Jared gets a crushing hug from his brother and a more delicate one from his sister, and then is ejected from the kitchen to let them cook. He watches TV with his mom while she knits and his dad does the crossword puzzle, and it feels surreally normal to be there between them. The house hasn't changed much since he left— a new coat of paint in the dining room, new cabinet hardware in the kitchen— although he hasn't been upstairs yet to check on the state of his old bedroom.

It's a guest room now, he discovers after dinner. The bed is his old bed, but most of his old treasures and crap have been boxed up and stashed in the attic. His mother invites him to go up there and take a look, see if he wants any of it, and he carefully he avoids promising to do anything of the sort.

He sleeps like the dead, forgotten-familiar bed putting him out in an instant, but he wakes up disoriented. He stares at the ceiling for a few long moments, remembering where he is. He thinks about Jensen, what he might be up to at this hour, which would be six a.m. there. He's just getting off work, catching the bus to his apartment. He has the night of the 24th off, and Jared knows he'll be staying up late in the day, probably doing some last minute shopping while the stores are still open.

He has a gift for Jensen tucked away in his closet, but they didn't talk about whether they were going to exchange them. He's not sure whether he's entitled to yet, or whether he should wait for Jensen's birthday in March. Either way, he's ready.

On Christmas morning Jared goes to church with the family, something he never does at home. It's comforting, sitting between his brother and sister and letting the sermon wash over him. After the service he accepts all the awed greetings from his parents' friends, his childhood friends' parents, and everyone else he used to know growing up. He's a big deal, they've all heard about the shooting, and he has to reassure people over and over that he's doing all right, he's recovering.

"He's got a nice nurse looking after him," Jared's mom says out of nowhere to Mrs. Forester, who taught English when Jared was in Junior High.

Mrs. Forester looks impressed and pleased, and Jared glares at his mom. He's not completely out to everyone in his hometown, but his mother seems determined to make him change that. When the inevitable question follows, Jared soldiers on. He's a cop. He gets shot.

"Well, _his_ name is Jensen," he says, and Mrs. Forester's white eyebrows hit her hairline. "We've been seeing each other since August."

Word gets around, and now the people who wanted to know about Jared's gunshot wound want to know about his nurse boyfriend. Mr. Selman, the man who ran the grocery store when Jared was a kid, is deaf in one ear, and has to have the news repeated to him at something near a yell by his grand-nephew Alex. At that point it doesn't matter who Jared tells, because they all heard it from Alex already, and he gives up trying to be subtle.

After church, the family returns home to open gifts in the living room with the Yule Log on television. They eat a huge Christmas dinner when another wing of the family arrives, and Jared catches Meg's eye over the hambone. She's laughing, bright and happy, and when she sees him looking she winks and waves.

"I'm glad you could make it down," Jared mom says, reaching across the table to pat him on the hand. "I know you're busy with your life and your job and everything, but I'm happy you made time for us."

"Always, ma," Jared says.


	3. Part III

Jensen's behind the nurses' station desk when Jared walks out of the elevator onto his floor in late January, a little after midnight. He looks up, blinks, and his expression is a mixture of pleasure and confusion as he realizes who it is. They've been apart too long, Jared decides, if he's starting to surprise Jensen again. It feels like years since he's seen him but it's only been two weeks or so. Three since the last time they had sex. After that it was one nice-but-not-very-satisfying coffee break and one make-out session on Jensen's couch that ended with Jared late to work, still hard, trying to ignore the taste of Jensen's come in his mouth.

"Nurse Ackles," he says, putting on his best imitation of Chief Morgan, "May I have a word?"

The other nurses give Jensen sidelong looks and smirk behind their hands and clipboards, and Jensen's eyes narrow as he puts down the stack of folders he was holding.

"Of course, _Officer_ ," he says, and steps out from behind the desk.

 _Fuck_ Jensen looks good in his scrubs: green top tucked into the bottoms, neat square knot tied at his waist, the hint of a white t-shirt underneath. He doesn't wear pants under the scrubs, just his boxers, and Jared loves seeing him like this― soft around the edges, but obviously strong, obviously a professional. Jensen's wearing his plain, practical tennis shoes for a long shift on his feet, and his ID badge is clipped to his pocket. It's so simple, and yet so perfect.

"What are you doing here?" Jensen whispers, clearly suspicious, the moment they're out of earshot of the desk. "And how'd you get in at this hour?"

Jared grins. "Please," he says, "I am a professional." He pulls out his badge again. "I know a hundred ways to use this thing inappropriately. Tonight, it's seducing you at work and convincing you to have sex with me in a closet."

Jensen gapes at him.

"Or a bathroom," Jared concedes, "a bathroom would be fine too."

"I'm not having sex with you while I'm on shift," Jensen says, still trying to whisper but sounding indignant at the same time. His cheeks are pink with embarrassment. "Jesus, Jared."

"Are you real busy tonight?" Jared asks, trying to sound like that matters. He's been planning this for days after he jerked off thinking of Jensen in the scrubs, trying to figure out a way to fuck him in them.

"No," Jensen says slowly. He glances over his shoulder at the nurses' station where the others are giving him surreptitious looks. Jared recognizes the beginning of serious consideration in Jensen's eyes, and he angles into Jensen's space without looking like he's getting too close.

"I've been thinking about it for a week," he says, dropping his voice. "Do you know how fucking sexy you look in those scrubs? Even when I was high as a kite in here ages ago, I wanted you, looking like that."

"Shut up," Jensen mutters, but his hands are twitching and he's chewing his lip, both signs Jared recognizes already. He wants to do it, but his moral compass is holding him in check. "Okay," he says finally, and Jared mentally pats himself on the back. "There's a closet at the end of the hall that locks."

"Show the way, Nurse Ackles," Jared says. Jensen looks over his shoulder again and gives the other nurses some kind of signal, and then points Jared in the direction of this closet, other hand hovering just behind his elbow like he's trying real hard not to touch Jared and ruin the game.

The closet does lock, and Jared locks it instantly and presses Jensen against the door, pinning his hips and biting his neck. Jensen's head goes back so fast Jared expects to hear it bang against the door, but Jensen just moans through his teeth and clutches Jared's shoulders. The pressure of his hand feels good, not painful, on Jared's left, and he counts that a win. He might not be able to lift Jensen off the floor yet, but he'll get there.

Jensen catches himself and loosens his grip on Jared's injured arm, but Jared bites him again and says, "It's okay," against his neck. He starts to suck a mark into Jensen's throat until Jensen pushes him away.

"Knock it off," Jensen says, his eyes dark and his face pink, "When I go back I need to be able to at least pretend we didn't just fuck."

"Spoilsport," Jared says, but the next kiss is gentler, and he splays his hand across Jensen's belly. Jensen pushes it down and Jared curls it over the swell of his dick, hard and obvious in his scrubs. "Since I knew you wouldn't be ready," he murmurs, trying to keep his voice down, "I figured I'd do some prep ahead of time, and you could just fuck me."

"What," Jensen says, breathless, and he jams his hand down the back of Jared's pants. His fingers slip against Jared's already slick hole, and he groans a little too loud. "You're insane," he says, kissing Jared hard.

Jared turns them around, pushing Jensen away and undoing his belt. Jensen unties his scrubs and lets them fall loose around his hips, and Jared takes a moment to appreciate the way he looks now, cock standing out from between his thighs, framed by the green scrub shirt and the bow of his legs. He reaches out to jerk that cock for a moment, and Jensen bites his lip and pushes into Jared's hand.

Jared lets go. Jensen crowds against him again, kissing him deeply and cradling his head in his hands. His fingers are gentle in Jared's hair, against his temples, and Jared loses himself for a moment in the kiss, the soft sound of Jensen breathing, the hard, familiar press of their bodies, and the smell of Jensen's aftershave and general hospital anesthetic. He opens his eyes, and the closet's contents aren't particularly sexy, but the man in front of him erases all of it. He's grinning, sliding his hands down Jared's sides, and Jared loves how spontaneous and insane the whole thing is. He loves how Jensen always turns out to be up for anything.

He might love Jensen, actually.

His heart stutters in his chest, and Jensen must catch the look on his face because he quirks an eyebrow and says, "What's up?"

"Nothing," Jared says, and kisses him again. "Gonna fuck this?"

"You're so weird," Jensen says, but he's turning Jared around and yanking his hips out so Jared has to lean forwards with his forearms braced against the door. He's not bending far but Jensen's hand on his back is authoritative and insistent, and he feels very exposed while he waits for Jensen to roll a condom on. Slicking himself up half an hour ago at his apartment got him all worked up, eager for Jensen's hands and mouth and cock, and now Jensen's pressing open-mouthed kisses to the back of his neck and settling his hands on Jared's hips while he lines up his dick and starts to press inside. Jared's body opens for him and Jared stifles a moan against his wrist, spreading his legs as wide as he can with his pants around his ankles and arching back into him. Jensen's cock splits him open, fills him up so deep, and it's torture when Jensen pauses, breathing hard.

Jensen presses his forehead into the dip between Jared's shoulder blades. "Jesus fuck you feel good," he says, his voice harsh. "You have the best ideas."

"I know, right?" Jared says, but he's shaking. Jensen's the one that feels good, rocking his hips against Jared's ass and breathing hotly through Jared's shirt. He wraps his arms around Jared's middle and grinds his hips in a circle that has Jared whimpering, Jensen's cock rubbing slow and steady against Jared's prostate and sending sparks of pleasure through him. His dick is so hard it's dripping, pre-come sliding wetly from the head with every roll of Jensen's hips, and Jared cups his hand around it, trying not to make a mess. The hospital is too clean for them to make an absolute wreck of the place. Jensen would deem it unsanitary.

Jensen's fingers slide around his, giving his cock a squeeze between their hands, and he pulls out a little. When he thrusts back in deeper he nails Jared's prostate, and Jared's cock jerks hard. He's too turned on already, and Jensen's barely started. He starts to pull his hand away, worried he'll come before Jensen's anywhere near, but Jensen's hand tightens around his and Jensen kisses behind his ear.

"God, you're crazy," he murmurs, and Jared flushes all over. "I can fucking picture you plotting this whole thing, fingering yourself for me, fucking yourself so I could fuck you."

Jared rolls his forehead against the cool surface of the door, mindless, and Jensen starts to jerk him hard and fast, twice as fast as he's fucking him. Jared's hands are slippery with pre-come and they slide easily where Jensen directs them, rubbing his swollen cockhead and then fondling his balls. Jared's panting, unable to catch his breath, while Jensen hammers him from behind, pushing Jared up on his toes.

"I'm―" Jared warns, the fingers of his other hand clenching uselessly against the door. "I'm so close, Jensen, you gotta―" He turns his head as he says it, and Jensen kisses him messily, licking into his mouth and not giving an inch. His cock is slamming wet and deep, and Jared's cock slips through his fingers faster and harder. Jared struggles to hold on, clenching all his muscles to keep from coming, and Jensen moans, "Oh god, oh fuck, Jared."

Jared loses it instantly, his cock spurting through Jensen's fingers and his hips jerking. He barely manages to not shout Jensen's name, and Jensen fucks in once, twice more before he goes stiff and muffles his groan against Jared's shoulder. Jared comes down slowly, trembling, and Jensen slumps against his back, pressing aimless kisses to the back of his neck.

"Oh, man," he says, nuzzling Jared's hairline, and pulls away gently. He slides the condom off, wraps it in the packaging of a pad of sterile gauze from the shelf, and then wipes them both off with the gauze itself. Jared hikes up his boxers and pants and fastens them, smirking at Jensen from a languid sprawl against the door. Jensen crumples up the whole mess into a ball and crams it in Jared's pocket.

"What the hell!" Jared protests.

"Take it with you," Jensen demands. "You're not leaving that here― I could get in so much trouble."

"I'd get you off," Jared says, grinning.

"Apparently," Jensen says, and pokes Jared in the abdomen affectionately. He leans in and gives him a slow, sweet kiss that warms Jared's chest, pressing against him almost absently, just enjoying the closeness. Jared wraps him in his arms and kisses back.

They're interrupted by a sudden knock on the door, an inch from Jared's head. Jensen jumps and swears, and Jared pushes him away on reflex. Jensen looks shocked, and embarrassed, and clears his throat.

"Jensen?" It's Danneel's voice, and she sounds decidedly amused. "Sera's coming back. We won't say anything if you're behind the desk when she shows up in five minutes."

"'Kay," Jensen agrees, and his face is bright red. After a moment, he sags with relief and whispers, "Jesus." Jared tries to pat down his hair and Jensen just shakes his head. "You talk me into the stupidest stuff." He's smiling, face still bright pink, and Jared hooks his finger in Jensen's top pocket and pulls him in for one last kiss.

"Let's get out of here," Jensen says, pulling away reluctantly, and eases open the door behind Jared. He peeks out into the hallway and whispers, "All clear," and Jared slips out after him. "I'll see you later," Jensen promises, "maybe Friday? Call you?"

"Call me," Jared agrees, and makes a break for the elevators as fast as he can, avoiding looking at the nurses' station where Jensen is doing a very obvious walk of shame. The nurses are giggling, hooting, and Jared jams at the elevator button in the hopes that it'll come faster if he's insistent. He finally escapes with most of his dignity intact, a deep ache in his body, and a sense of contentment that only comes from pulling off something truly outrageous.

It's snowing when Jensen shows up at Jared's place on a few weeks later, freshly showered and on his way to work. Jared's happy enough with getting what he can, but sometimes he wishes Jensen could sleep over, or they could grab dinner and see a movie, or go out and do something normal couples do. It's like Jensen's a vampire and can't be let out in the sun. The damn groundhog has predicted spring is a long way off, and Jared hates that stupid rodent. Jensen's mood is starting to suffer with the way it's staying cold and dark, and Jared wonders if he's seen the sun for more than a few hours all week.

"I just made dinner," Jared says, "you want any?" He's taken to making semi-neutral dishes that could comfortably be eaten for breakfast or dinner.

"I'm not hungry," Jensen says, sagging into the chair at the kitchen table. He looks exhausted, his eyes red and his forehead creased, and right away he puts his head down on his folded arms.

Jared puts down the pot of rice and wraps his arms around Jensen's shoulders. "You doing okay?"

"I'm fine," Jensen says, muffled. "Tired."

"You wanna crash for an hour?"

Jensen huffs and lifts his head. "I got up to come see you," he says, "I don't wanna just sleep on your couch."

"I'll come with you," Jared offers, even though his stomach is twisting itself into knots over the smell of the sausage and stir fry sitting hot on the stove.

Jensen shakes his head. "You should eat, dude."

"How about this," Jared offers, "go get in my bed. I'll eat real quick and join you soon."

"Mmm," Jensen agrees, and lets Jared kiss his cheek as he wanders his way in the direction of Jared's bedroom. Jared puts rice and sausage and vegetables together and eats them standing up while he watches the news for another couple of minutes. Then he ditches his dishes in the sink and goes after Jensen.

Jensen's already asleep, in his scrubs, on his stomach, his arms tucked under Jared's pillow. Jared toes off his shoes and drops his uniform pants on the ground before he slides in beside him, and Jensen murmurs quietly and rolls into the warmth of his body. Jared slings an arm over Jensen's ribs and buries his nose against the back of Jensen's neck, inhaling his clean, familiar scent.

He wakes up again some time later, more than an hour, and glances at the clock, momentarily confused. Jensen cuddles against him, warm and firm and close, and Jared jars him abruptly when he sits up. It's 10:15 p.m., and Jensen's shift started a quarter of an hour ago.

"Jensen, get up, man," Jared says, shaking him. "Shit, I'm so sorry."

Jensen sits up, disoriented, and when he catches sight of the clock he swears loudly and clambers out of the bed. He's already in his shoes and halfway to the kitchen by the time Jared climbs out after him, and he's at the door with his arms full of his bag and coat when Jared reaches the doorway. "Jared, I'm sorry dude, I― I'll call you, okay?"

"Don't drive stupid," Jared says, and the door slams shut.

Jared feels horrible for a good half hour, groggy and irritated with himself for not setting an alarm or something. Jensen still looked pretty drained going out the door, and he could catch hell at work for being late.

Eventually Jensen texts him a reassurance that everything is fine, that he was forgiven for being late, and that it wasn't Jared's fault. It certainly feels like Jared's fault though.

He sits on the couch picking at cold stir fry, moping. They've been lucky before now, schedules just slightly out of line, but suddenly it feels all wrong. If Jared weren't in his life, Jensen would be happily working his nightshift with everything all figured out, not trying to maneuver things so he could spend time with someone on a completely different cycle.

 _i'll come back and see you in the morning,_ Jensen's next text promises.

 _You should sleep,_ Jared writes back. _We can get together this weekend or something._

There's a long pause that makes Jared realize what time it is, and he gets up to wash the dishes and brush his teeth.

 _Thanks,_ the reply finally says, when Jared's getting back into bed and about to turn off the light. He feels a little better, for the sake of Jensen's health, but he's got a gnawing sense of foreboding in his stomach that makes it hard to fall asleep.

Jensen comes over again on Saturday evening, and Jared thinks he knows what he has to do. He has to give Jensen some space, let him get enough sleep and stop trying to make up for all the time they don't spend together. It was easier when they were less serious and only saw each other on the weekends or for their morning cup at the Nimble Bean, but when he says it aloud Jensen's face falls.

"So you wanna be less serious?" Jensen asks, twisting his watch around his wrist and not looking at Jared.

"No," Jared says, realizing he's blundered into something worse than he meant to, "I want to be just as serious. Totally serious. I just― I feel like I'm doing you a disservice by having you come over all the time."

"I want to come over," Jensen insists, "I like coming over."

Jared wants to reach out and touch him, but he feels like he's been saying the wrong things. Jensen suddenly feels a hundred miles away, even though he's sitting on Jared's couch right there.

"Let's just," Jared says, trying to salvage it but not having any clue how to make Jensen get what he's saying, "give it a week or two. I just hate seeing you so exhausted and making you late and shit."

"You didn't make me late," Jensen says, "I did that myself."

"Because you got up early to come see me," Jared says.

"Because I like seeing you."

"But I feel bad!"

"Well, don't," Jensen says, and he's getting up from the couch. Jared stands too. This is not what he wanted. This is the opposite of what he wanted. "Okay," Jensen says, and his voice is cold. "We'll give it some time. Then you see how you feel and you can let me know whether you'll let me run my life my way."

"Jensen," Jared says, reaching out, but it's way too late. Jensen's mouth tightens into a thin line, and he turns away. He crosses the room and yanks his coat off the hook, and then he's out the door in a hurry for the second time in four days. Jared starts to go after him, and then stops. He's gotten what he asked for, that's for damn sure.

An hour after he watches Jensen's truck drive away, he calls Meg.

"I think I accidentally broke up with Jensen," he says when she picks up.

"What? Why?"

Jared rubs his hand over his face and sighs noisily. He's halfway through a third beer, and he's not feeling so hot. "I― he's been so tired and working so hard to see me, and I wanted to let him know he didn't have to do all that for me."

"Um," Meg says, putting a lot of incredulity into the single sound.

"So I told him I wanted to give him space, and he left."

"Jar-ed," Meg says. Jared thinks he can hear her rolling her eyes. "You need to call him and explain that's not what you meant."

"But it is what I meant," Jared says. "I don't want him to think he has to come over all the time, especially if he's got stuff to do instead."

"So you want to be less of a priority for him," Meg says.

"No," Jared says, "yes. Oh fuck."

"Okay," Meg says, "that was stupid."

"I'm so stupid," Jared moans.

"No, you just do stupid stuff." Meg sighs. "You need to call him."

Jared doesn't call him. Jensen doesn't call either. Jared has to stick to his promise to give Jensen some room, even if the idea of not seeing him makes his insides hurt. He's gone longer without seeing Jensen. He needs to man up.

Chad seems to know something's wrong, but he doesn't mention it. Jared doesn't bring it up either. All week the patrol goes like normal, and getting lost in the work helps a little. They stop a store robbery in progress on Tuesday, and chase a speeder on Wednesday. Nothing happens all day on Thursday and it makes Jared antsy. It's getting harder to ignore the Jensen-shaped hole in his life. Chad's been subdued since he figured it out— he's not as self-centered as Jared makes him out to be— and Jared's frustration with himself and with Jensen builds, until he can't stand it anymore. He tickets a jaywalker to make himself feel better, but it doesn't work.

"I don't think I should offer you advice," Chad says out of nowhere, "but you should probably deal with your shit before it makes you bad at your job."

"I'm not bad at my job," Jared snaps.

"Not yet," Chad says, not looking at him.

Jared heaves a sigh. "You're probably right."

"I'm always right," Chad counters. Jared snorts.

The next morning he heads for the Bean, determined, and manages to get all the way to the door before he hesitates. Then he stops dead in his tracks, uncertainty taking over. What if Jensen's decided to take this all the way, and doesn't want to see him at all? What if he doesn't come in here, expecting Jared to be there? What if he _does_ come in, sees Jared, and leaves? What if they have to talk it out?

The door opens and his heart almost stops, but it's just some woman on her way to work who gives him a strange look as she passes. He's kind of standing in her way, and he's in uniform, and he looks ridiculous.

"Sorry," he mutters, "Excuse me," and goes into the shop before he can chicken out. His heart is pounding so loud he's almost certain everyone else can hear it.

Jensen's not there. Maybe it's better that way.

He buys a coffee for Chad too, sort of hoping it will act as an apology for acting like a dick yesterday. He picks them up at the counter and pours milk and sugar into Chad's, and heads for the door. He has to get out of here.

He's stopped _again_ at the door, but this time there's a good reason. Jensen is standing at the bus stop, head down, shoulders hunched under the weight of his messenger bag. He looks exhausted, and miserable, and it's all Jared's fault.

Jensen starts to look up, towards the coffee shop, and Jared steps backwards. Jensen sighs, rubs a hand through his hair, and looks at his feet again. Jared feels like shit. He doesn't want his coffee anymore. He feels kind of like throwing up instead.

He waits until the bus comes, and watches Jensen get on, his heart in his boots. Then he goes to work, and it sucks out loud.

Meg immediately knows he hasn't done anything about the situation with Jensen, and gives him a long, confused look when she comes over for dinner, two weeks later.

"What are you waiting for?" she asks.

"I think he's still mad at me," Jared hedges.

"I think you're right," Meg says, "because you haven't _talked to him_ since then. What did I tell you?"

Jared looks away.

"Wow." Meg crosses her arms. "You're stupider than I thought."

"Hey―" Jared starts to say, but she cuts him off.

"Jared, you're a cop." She emphasizes _cop_ like Jared might have forgotten. His shoulder is all the way healed, but he's not going to be letting that little incident slip his mind any time soon. "Why on earth did you think dumping him was the way to make him happy?"

"It's the only way he'll get enough sleep!" Jared protests, but it sounds weak, illogical.

"Change your shift, you idiot," Meg says. "If you want to see him more but don't want to _inconvenience_ him, change your damn shift. Christ, you're retarded."

"Fuck you," he says.

She leaves soon after, obviously disgusted with him, and he ends up standing alone in the kitchen with enough food for two getting cold on the counter.

He pulls on his sneakers and takes the dogs out for a run. Now that he's got both arms back they're easy to handle, even when they want to take off in different directions for no reason, but they recognize the route Jared's taking them on and behave themselves as they run.

Jared loves his job. He went into the academy right after college, with a major in political science and a concentration in law enforcement. He's wanted to be a cop since he was a kid and his brother wanted to be a robber. And he loves riding with Chad. He never thought he'd get so lucky to work with one of his best friends, but there it is. They've been partners for years, and if Jared changes his schedule he'll have to leave Chad behind. He'll have to leave everything behind.

He'd have to make new friends with the folks on the night shift. He knows a few of them already from precinct parties, Singer included, but he's never bothered to get close. He'd have to make new efforts now. Most of the officers he was a rookie with work the daytime beat, and he'd be letting them all go.

The night shift was rumored to be both more boring and more difficult than a daytime shift. He might ride alone, too, since the precinct likes to have eyes in more places on the city at night if possible. Hence the boredom. Then again, more dangerous shit goes down at night: more drunk driving, more drug dealing, more violent home invasions, more fights.

But he'd get to see Jensen more often. They could go on their unconventional dates together and be on the same page. They could hang out on weekends without ruining either of their sleep schedules. They could spent the night— or, day— together. Jensen could actually sleep over.

It makes his chest hurt with how bad he wants that. He wants to sleep next to Jensen, get to roll over and kiss him awake. He wants Jensen to leave a toothbrush at his place, and not because he comes to Jared's early in the evening for breakfast and has to make himself presentable before he leaves again. He wants to fuck him until the sun comes up, and then get to cuddle up to him and fall asleep with his head on Jensen's shoulder without worrying that he'll wake up alone or late to work.

But the thought of ditching Chad for his boyfriend twists his stomach with guilt. Chad's stuck by him since they first met, and even though he's got his own girl to keep him busy he'd never forgive Jared for changing things up for a guy he's only been seeing for six months.

Jared reaches the half-way point before he's got it all figured out, and he slows to a stop, drooping, his hands on his knees. Harley and Sadie seem to pick up on his mood, and they sit down at his feet, looking at him with their big, soulful eyes.

"You'll stick around if I work nights, right?" he asks them.

Sadie barks. That's probably a yes.

On the way back to the house, a police car with lights flashing and siren blaring tears past, and Jared smiles a little ruefully to himself. He loves his job, and he's glad he has options. Something in Jensen's life might change too. Maybe he can negotiate a half-and-half sort of thing, where he works some of the time at night and some of the time during the day. Maybe he can work early morning to midday.

He decides to talk to Chad. He has to at least warn the guy. He has to talk to Jensen too, before it's too late.

When he gets home, his cell phone waits mockingly on the kitchen counter. He fills the dogs' bowls, and has a glass of water, and puts away some of the ingredients for dinner he was planning to make for him and Meg. Finally he mans up and picks up the phone.

Jensen's phone rings two and a half times, and then goes to voicemail. _Damn it._

 _Hey, this is Jensen. I'm not here, but leave a message and I'll call you back. Thanks!_

Jared takes a breath.

"Hey, um. It's me. I know you're mad, but I— I'm ready to let you run things your way, I guess?" He pauses. "I need to talk to you. Call me back." He doesn't want to sound too desperate, but he's willing to go there if he has to. "Please? Okay, yeah. Bye."

It's awkward as hell, but at least he's reached out. He feels like an asshole.

Ten minutes later his phone buzzes in his pocket. It's a text from Jensen.

 _come over friday after seven and we can talk._

Better than nothing, anyway.

Jared stands in front of Jensen's apartment building, frozen. His stomach feels like lead, and his heart is securely in his mouth. He stands there so long, trying to get up the conviction to ring the buzzer, that Jensen actually opens the door for him and says, "Come in already, jesus christ."

He has to do this on Jensen's turf. Jensen has to be allowed to kick him out. Jared's ready for it to hurt like crazy, but he won't blame Jensen if it does. He's been pretty stupid.

Danneel is thankfully absent, and there's a movie paused on the TV. Jensen turns it off, and sits down on the couch. He doesn't offer Jared a seat, so Jared stands, awkward as all hell, hands jammed in his coat pockets. Jensen raises his eyebrows, inviting Jared to begin.

"I fucked up," Jared says. _Go big or go home,_ he thinks.

"Yeah," Jensen agrees, "you kind of did." He rubs his hand across his face, looking sad and worn, and it takes all the fortitude Jared possesses not to cross the room and hug it out of him right now.

"I'm sorry," he says instead. "Can I tell you what I was thinking?"

Jensen huffs, almost a laugh, and Jared presses on.

"I miss you," Jared says. "I love seeing you all the time. But I hated seeing you so exhausted, working so hard, and I thought I could fix it."

"Jared."

"Lemme finish," Jared says, as gently as he can. Jensen sighs, but motions for him to go on. "I thought if you saw me less, you'd be able to go to work and be okay and not be tired, and I'd get more of you on your off-days and it wouldn't be such a hassle for you."

Jensen looks away, his face grim.

"But," Jared says, remembering what Meg said to him, "I don't want to be less of a priority. I want to be selfish, I want to see you every goddamn day." He risks taking a step towards Jensen. "I want to wake up next to you, and cook you dinner, and― fuck, Jensen, I miss you like crazy. I—"

Jensen almost smiles. "I miss you too," he says quietly. Then he's getting up, reaching for Jared and pulling him into a hug, burying his face against Jared's neck. "Jared, you asshole."

"Please come over all the time," Jared says, holding onto him fiercely, "and sleep in my bed when you're tired, and I'll never make you late again, and I'll feed you anything you want. I'll make you coffee after work and I'll stay up all night to go out with you, and I'll― I'll do anything." He swallows hard. He has one more card to play. "I can get a night shift." He feels Jensen tense against him. "I love riding with Chad, I do, but I― I love you more. I want this to work, and if I have to do that to keep you, I will."

Jensen pulls away, keeping his arms around Jared's waist and looking him in the face. "Don't do that," he says. "It's not so bad if you're used to it, but, shit, Jared. I wouldn't wish it on anyone. I love _my_ job, but I hate being up all night and asleep all day. I hate the winter, it makes me such a dick."

"I don't care," Jared says.

Jensen smiles, and the tension in Jared's chest eases a little. "Thanks," he says. "I get it. We'll figure something out."

"I'm sorry I accidentally broke up with you," Jared says.

"Broke up―" Jensen starts, astonished, and Jared winces. "No, babe. It's not that bad."

"So we didn't break up?"

"Not as far as I was concerned," Jensen says. "Why, what did you do?"

"Nothing!" Jared says. "Moped a lot. Felt like a jerk, mostly."

"Good," Jensen says. "As long as that's all."

"That's all," Jared promises.

Jensen seems to hesitate, gaze flickering to Jared's mouth, and Jared leans in slowly. He catches a glimpse of Jensen starting to smile, and he presses their lips together softly. Jensen clenches his hands in the back of Jared's coat and kisses him again. Then again, more deeply. Jared hears him make a noise, quiet and eager, and he starts to take off the coat.

Jensen helps, pushing it off his shoulders, and Jared backs him towards the couch. Jensen goes easily, pulling as much as Jared is pushing, and he drags Jared down with him as he sits. Jared ends up on top of him, half-lying between his legs, holding himself up on his elbows and still kissing him. He hadn't let himself imagine the encounter would head this direction but he's more than happy that it has.

Jensen says, "Fuck, don't tell me I can't come over again," biting Jared's lip, and Jared shakes his head.

"I'll give you a key," he says, "then you can come over even when I'm not there and like, walk my dogs for me."

Jensen thumps him on the side, and at the same time thrusts his hips up. "'M not walking your dogs for you," he says, indignant, "walk 'em yourself."

"Kidding," Jared says, kissing him again. "You can come over and be naked on my bed when I get home."

"You're pushing it," Jensen warns, but he's untucking Jared's shirt from his pants and pushing his hands up underneath. He scrapes blunt fingernails down Jared's spine, making him shiver, and then tucks his hands against the small of Jared's back and urges him to start to rock against him.

Jared wants to kiss him forever. He could care less, actually, whether they fuck right now. He just wants to cover himself in Jensen's scent, hair gel and laundry detergent and warm skin, and never stop kissing him.

To make it up to him, Jared finally plans that vacation he promised Jensen back in December. It's just starting to get warm again, so he figures camping is back on the table. Jensen laughs when he suggests it, but then he realizes Jared is serious and says, "Okay, I have a sleeping bag."

Chad has a two-man tent, and a camp stove, for what reason Jared cannot figure out because he has known Chad for years and Chad has never shown an interest in camping. But he gives up the tent and stove with only a minor hesitation.

"You sure you want to go now?" he asks. "It's freezing at night."

"If it sucks," Jared says firmly, "we'll get a hotel."

Chad rolls his eyes. "Your funeral," he says.

"Shut up, it's going to rock."

Jensen takes off a whole week even though their trip is only two days long. He has to deal with the jet lag of switching temporarily to a daytime schedule and then back again, and Jared knows right then that he's been forgiven. He still wants to go camping.

Jared picks him up Friday afternoon in his old red sedan, and Jensen throws a sleeping bag and bulging backpack in the trunk.

"I am so fucking ready," Jensen says, climbing into the front seat. "I haven't been camping since I was a kid."

The drive to the camp site takes a little over two hours, and Jensen alternately naps and messes with the radio. They lose any stations as they reach the edge of the mountains, but silence between them is comfortable rather than awkward. Jared drives and Jensen bullies him into playing a road game, and they reach the camping grounds a little before dark.

Jared checks them in, and as they drive towards the campsite he starts to realize how few people are actually here. It's the beginning of the season, and the site was cheap, and he's worried he's about to figure out why. The air was starting to get chilly when he got out to talk to the Park Ranger, and by the time they find their site and unload the camp stove he has to put on a heavier jacket.

The tent, although little more than a triangle with sticks and string, proves almost impossible to figure out, and Jensen has two degrees. It's dark by the time they finally get the damn thing set up, and it's cold too. Jared manages to light the camp stove with only the minimum requirement of swearing, though, and the hot dogs he brought go on the fire nicely.

Jensen unzips his sleeping bag and wraps it around both of them as they sit beside the stove, and Jared curls his arms around Jensen's body and gets as close as he can. The air really is nippy now, and he can feel how cold Jensen's face is. He presses his nose to the corner of Jensen's jaw, snickering, and earns himself a soft punch in the stomach.

It's quiet out here, quieter than Jared expected it to be. The noise of insects he anticipated is absent, and it must be that the season just isn't right yet. Instead he can hear Jensen breathing quietly, calmly, and the crackling of the camp stove, and the sizzle of the hot dogs nice and clear.

"This is nice," Jensen says, snuggling up to Jared again once they get the hot dogs off the stove and into buns. "I don't usually get to— you know. Do stuff that's fun."

"I have good ideas," Jared says smugly, biting the end of Jensen's hotdog.

"Mostly," Jensen says, giving him a significant look.

"Hey," Jared says around the mouthful, trying not to be irritated, "can we not? Over and done?"

"Sorry," Jensen says, lowering his eyes, "you're right. I won't— over and done."

Jared hugs him tighter.

"Stop eating my hotdog."

Jared swallows and grins at him.

They eat marshmallows off sticks after that, and Jared shoves three into his mouth to prove a point. Jensen starts kissing him and he almost chokes, which defeats the point he was trying to make in the first place. Jensen laughs at him while he chews frantically, looking delighted and relaxed, and finally Jared has enough freedom again to say, "You're supposed to be a lifesaver, you jerk, not trying to kill me."

"Well you're supposed to be rational," Jensen says, kissing him again. He has chocolate on his lips and his tongue, and Jared wants to eat him whole. He deepens the kiss, easing Jensen's mouth open, and Jensen goes quiet and kisses him back, curling his fingers in Jared's shirt. Heat gathers slowly in Jared's stomach, despite the night chill, and he slides his hands down Jensen's body to his hip and thigh.

"You tired yet?" he asks, dropping his voice to a little above a whisper. Jensen licks his lips and shakes his head.

"Not even a little."

Jared presses his lips to the corner of Jensen's mouth, and works his way across Jensen's jaw and down his neck as Jensen drops his head back on a sigh. Jared sucks a little mark into his throat, biting down, and Jensen lets out a moan.

On impulse, Jared wraps both arms around him and hauls him bodily into his lap. Jensen yelps, scrambling, and Jared settles him astride his thighs, slotting their bodies together. He kisses Jensen before he can protest the manhandling, and Jensen just clutches at him and groans into his mouth. His dick is a hard line in his pants, and Jared squeezes his ass with both hands to get a reaction.

"Fuck," Jensen says when they finally come up for air, "I wasn't expecting that."

"I told you I could pick you up," Jared says smugly. Jensen grins down at him from above.

"That's right," Jensen says, squirming a little and grinding himself against Jared, "you did say that."

"You impressed yet?"

"Be more impressed if you stopped bragging about it."

"I'll show you bragging," Jared says, and pushes himself to his feet.

At least, he tries to. Even though Jensen clings to him, wrapping his legs around Jared's waist and his arms around Jared's shoulders, and even though he's totally been working out again, Jensen really is too heavy to dead-lift from his seat on the ground. He gets about six inches up before he overbalances and goes down, thankfully away from the camp stove, and lands on the dirt with Jensen underneath him.

"Oof," Jensen says, catching his breath, "that was smooth."

"You okay?" Jared asks, feeling like an idiot.

"I'm fine," Jensen says, wrapping his arms tighter so Jared can't get away.

"Then shut up," Jared says, and pins him down after all. Jensen laughs and arches up against him, pushing his hips into Jared's, and Jared can tell he's not at all put out by the fall. A little winded, maybe, but still interested. Jared rolls his hips in a slow circle, making Jensen groan, and kisses him.

Jensen tangles his fingers in Jared's hair and kisses back, opening his mouth and holding Jared tight. Jared's cock throbs eagerly when Jensen sucks on his tongue, and his whole body jerks when Jensen bites his lower lip sharply. Jensen rocks their hips together, keeping up the slow grind Jared started, and he's breathing hard.

"Think we can zip the sleeping bags together and make one giant one?" Jared asks, pulling away and pressing their foreheads together.

"I sure hope so," Jensen says. "I didn't come up here to sleep in separate bags."

"Good," Jared says. He pushes himself off Jensen and offers him a hand up. Jensen takes it, and Jared stops to turn off the camp stove before he follows Jensen into the tent on his knees. Jensen's turned on the camping lantern and already has the other sleeping bag unzipped, and together they manage to cobble them together into one double-wide bag. Jensen climbs in fully dressed, minus his shoes, and Jared follows his lead.

It's much warmer inside the bag, and Jensen pulls their pillows in after them. Then he starts to strip.

"Wait," Jared says, catching his hands, "lemme do it."

"Oh, did you want to take your time?" Jensen teases, letting go of his pants and going for Jared's shirt instead.

"With you," Jared says truthfully, "Always."

It's hard to tell in the low light, but Jensen might be blushing. He smiles and looks away, and Jared kisses him firmly.

"Now take off my pants."

They get into something of a wrestling match trying to undress each other, rolling back and forth, and Jared plays dirty and starts tickling, but eventually they're skin to skin, and Jared rolls on top of Jensen. Jensen slides his hands up Jared's sides, spreading his legs, and holds onto his shoulders.

"Doin' good," Jensen says, squeezing the left one.

"Like new," Jared says. "Are you still wearing socks?"

Jensen has the grace to look embarrassed. "It's cold!"

"Dork," Jared accuses, kissing his face. "Be right back."

He shimmies his way down Jensen's body, scrunching himself into a ball at the bottom of the sleeping bag. It's dark and hot down here, and kind of hard to breathe, but the discomfort can be ignored when Jensen's hands find their way back to his hair, and he finds his way to Jensen's dick. It's lying hard and hot against his stomach, and Jared curls a hand around it, gives it a few slow strokes to hear Jensen gasp, and then slides it into his mouth.

"Christ," Jensen says, hips rising off the ground, and Jared lets him sink deeper into his throat. Jensen digs his feet into the sleeping bag and fucks Jared's mouth slowly, but the bag slips against the bottom of the tent and won't let him keep it up. Jared slides his tongue around the head of Jensen's cock, slurping down the surge of pre-come, and cups Jensen's balls in one hand to feel how full and tight they are.

Jensen gasps and jerks, body tensing, and Jared pulls off to catch his breath and let Jensen come down a little. He cut it kind of close, there, and he's surprised that Jensen's so worked up already.

"Sorry," Jensen says, obviously understanding, "I just. I haven't— not since the last time I saw you."

More than a week, then, Jared thinks, and presses an open-mouthed kiss to Jensen's hip. That's some serious self-control.

"Oh, fuck," Jensen says then, and Jared hasn't even done anything.

"What?"

Jensen lifts the edge of the sleeping bag, and Jared can see his silhouette looking down at him from above. "I can't reach my bag. I've got— you know, everything in there."

Jared puts his fingers in his mouth and slides them wetly up Jensen's crack to his hole. "We could do without."

Jensen huffs. "Jared."

"What?"

"I'm a nurse," Jensen reminds him, "I've seen all the cautionary slide shows. I don't care if you haven't so much as looked at anyone else since I met you, we're not going bare until we've gotten tested."

"Worth a try," Jared says, but he kisses Jensen's stomach to let him know he's not upset. He gets it. He's glad Jensen cares enough.

"So, let me just—" Jensen says, sounding guilty, and Jared gives him a little push. He squirms his way out of the bag halfway, drags his backpack over, and lets Jared get back to what he was doing as he digs in it for a condom. Jared presses his nose into the cut of Jensen's hip and licks his name into Jensen's skin, and finally Jensen finds one and throws it at his head.

"Can I fuck you now?" Jared asks, sliding up his body again, and Jensen smiles up at him, strangely shy.

"Only if you stay up here," he says. He might be blushing again.

Jared kisses him, and Jensen kisses back like he doesn't care that Jared tastes like dick. He spreads his knees as wide as they'll go in the sleeping bag, and Jared leans on his left elbow, which will finally support him again, to slide lube-slick fingers between Jensen's cheeks.

Jensen's body opens easily for him, and Jensen tips his head back and lets out a little noise that Jared wants to hear again right away. He sinks his fingers deeper, twisting his wrist a little, and is rewarded.

"God," Jensen moans, "that's so good. I wish we could do this forever."

Suddenly Jared wants to drag it out as long as possible rather than get inside Jensen right away, and he bites at Jensen's neck to keep himself calm as he fingers Jensen as slowly as they can both stand. It takes him ten minutes to get a third finger in, and by then Jensen's sweating and begging, and he keeps trying to grind his cock against Jared's stomach. Jared spares him, slides his fingers out, and his hands are shaking as he rolls on the condom.

Jensen's groan is wordless this time as Jared pushes into his body, and he's pliant when Jared gathers him in his arms and starts to fuck him deep and slow. He wraps himself around Jared again, like when Jared tried to pick him up, and the angle is perfection. Jared's hitting his sweet spot on every thrust, making him shake and moan, and his body is tight and hot and wonderfully familiar. Jared knows how Jensen will react when he lets go of his shoulder to reach between them, and he knows the noise Jensen will make when he rubs his thumb over the sensitive, sticky head of his cock. He knows the way Jensen starts to gasp when he gets close, and he knows the way Jensen will dig his fingernails into Jared's shoulders when Jared puts his mouth against Jensen's ear and rumbles, "Gonna come soon?"

"Fuck," Jensen says, "oh my god, please Jay."

Jared doesn't speed up, doesn't change anything, but Jensen's going to get there anyway, just from this. His breathing starts to get erratic, and Jared leans down to kiss him, sliding his tongue against Jensen's as he fucks him.

Jensen moans into his mouth and his body arches in a sinuous curve as he starts to come. He pulses hot and slick over Jared's hand, breaks the kiss to throw his head back, and his chest heaves. Jared buries his face against Jensen's neck and comes too, almost as an afterthought. It's slow and thick and sweeps through him, making him weak all over.

Jensen's catching his breath when Jared opens his eyes again, carding his hands through Jared's hair and staring at the tent above them.

When Jared catches his gaze, he smiles, dazed, and says, "Wow, I didn't think. Wow."

"Tell me about it," Jared says, and he doesn't move to pull out just yet. They trade lazy, slow kisses as the night's chill starts to creep in around the edges, and Jensen pulls the sleeping bag over their heads.

In the darkness he breaks the kiss, and Jared feels him take a deep breath.

"Man, I love you," Jensen whispers.

Jared wakes up shivering, his face and shoulders absolutely freezing. Jensen isn't doing much better, trembling in his sleep, and Jared wraps them tighter in the sleeping bag and kisses Jensen awake. Jensen opens his eyes groggily, curses, and snuggles as close to Jared as he can get. Now that Jared's awake he can't be expected to drift off again, so eventually he escapes Jensen's grasp, finds his jeans in the bottom of the sleeping bag, and pulls them on along with a heavy police department sweatshirt.

The morning is bright and cold when he emerges from the tent, and he can almost see his breath in the air. The camp stove doesn't seem to notice however, and starts right up when Jared tries it. He puts a pot of water on to boil and goes to the car to find the instant coffee and cereal he packed. Jensen also stashed a pint of milk back there, and it survived the night nicely.

Jensen pokes his head out of the tent as the water boils, and he accepts the mug of instant coffee and gives Jared a kiss in return. He looks out of place in the daytime, and he punches Jared in the arm when he says as much.

"Shut up," he says, "I know how sunshine works."

"Do you even get enough Vitamin D?"

"I take vitamins," Jensen says, as if it's something to be proud of. "But. Sometimes no."

Jared wraps him in his arms, rubs his face against Jensen's soft sweater. "It's okay baby, I got some sunshine left over for you."

"You're so weird," Jensen accuses, but he hugs Jared back. After a moment Jared can hear him slurping his coffee over his shoulder, right beside Jared's ear, and he lets go.

"Addict," he says.

"Whatever, man, I need it. It's like—" he checks his watch, the watch that Jared gave him— "oh. It's only nine."

"Crybaby," Jared says. "C'mon, we got hikin' to do."

Jared is a runner, not a hiker, and even though he's in great shape it only takes about two hours for his thighs to be burning with the effort. The trail isn't that steep or anything, but they are aiming for the top of the mountain, and it'll be midafternoon by the time they get there. Jensen's breathing just as hard, but they're both determined to keep pace with one another and they don't talk much on the way up. The day warms up quickly, and Jared has to strip off two layers before he's anywhere near comfortable. His undershirt is drenched with sweat by noon, and Jensen's already sunburned.

"My face hurts," Jensen complains when they stop for a water break somewhere near the top.

"You're getting real sun," Jared tells him.

"Damn it," Jensen says, grinning. "Everyone's gonna make fun of my tan."

"If you survive the lobster stage," Jared says.

"Damn it," Jensen says again, less pleased.

When they finally reach the top of the trail and scramble their way across the rocks to the edge, overlooking the river, Jared's almost breathless at the view. The sun has burned away all the cold morning fog and they can see for miles in every direction. The trees are just starting to show green, and the color is delicate against the brown branches and the dark blue of the water.

"Wow," Jensen says. "Okay, that's worth how stiff I'm going to be tomorrow."

They sit on the edge and eat sandwiches and granola bars, and Jensen leans against Jared's side. Jared puts an arm around his shoulder, nuzzles at his hair.

"Thanks," Jensen says. "This is awesome."

"It's just nature," Jared says, but he's feeling the same way.

The hike back down is less painful, but Jared's really feeling it by the time they reach the camp again. It's still light so they start dinner and cozy up just like the night before, and by the time it's dark they're finishing up the marshmallows and making-out like teenagers.

It gets cold just as fast, and this time Jensen drags sweats into the sleeping bag with them before they fuck. He tops this time, sort of, since they end up on their sides, and they fall asleep like that, wrapped up in each other.

They check out of the campsite in the morning and Jensen dozes in the car on the way back to town. When they get to his apartment Jared's reluctant to let him go, and he manages to turn a goodbye into a lengthy make-out session. Finally Danneel comes out to get them, looking amused, and she waves to Jared as Jensen gets out of the car.

"This was fun," Jensen says, bending down with his backpack over his shoulder and his sleeping bag rolled up under his arm. Jared hopes it still smells like sex. "Seriously. I don't think I've had a better weekend."

"Me neither," Jared agrees. "I'll see you later."

"Love you," Jensen says, smiling.

"Love you too," Jared says, and now it's easy. It's important, but it's so easy.

Jensen's smile widens, and he closes the door. He blows Jared a kiss through the window, and turns to go up to the apartment.

Jared doesn't bother to start the car again until he's all the way inside.

"Did you ask for the shift change yet?" Jensen asks before Jared can say hello. Jared pauses, glancing down at the request form on his desk. He hasn't told Jensen he was about to go through with it, but apparently Jensen knows him better than he thought. It's a little comforting, even though he's been called out.

"Um, no," he says, "not yet. What's up?"

"Don't," Jensen says. "I have to talk to you. Preferably in person."

Jared's heart practically stops in his chest, and he clutches the phone against his ear. Jensen must hear his pause, because he laughs. "It's nothing bad," he says, "I swear."

"So why can't you say it now?" Jared asks carefully. He's still in the station, putting on his coat and collecting his things to go home, and it's an incredibly awkward place to be ambushed with something important. Maybe it's better that Jensen's not coming right out with it now, because he is still in public.

"Can I just meet you at your place?"

"Yeah," Jared says. "Okay. I'll be home in fifteen minutes." He folds the form in half and tucks it under his desk lamp.

"Great," Jensen says. "I promise it's not bad."

Jared spends the drive home thinking of all the ways Jensen could think it was _not bad_ and it could be actually _incredibly bad_ , and he's worked himself into something like a panic by the time he pulls into the apartment parking lot. Jensen's truck is parked in front of the building, and he gets out when Jared does.

"Hey," Jensen says, and makes a point to pull Jared in for a kiss. He's on his way to work, dressed in his scrubs, and for some reason their familiarity relaxes Jared. He curls his hands in Jensen's shirt and kisses him again, if only to delay the inevitable. Jensen pulls away eventually, smiling, and bites his lip. "Can we go inside?"

"You're making me really nervous," Jared says, but he unlocks the front door and leads Jensen upstairs. Jensen gives an enthusiastic hello to the dogs, and Jared says, "Okay, seriously," as he starts to unbutton his uniform shirt.

"Sorry," Jensen says, standing back up. "So here's the deal: I'm getting a promotion. Well, more like a sideways-motion. I'm getting moved to the neuro in-patient floor starting in July."

"That's great!" This is not a single one of the disasters Jared has been picturing for the last twenty minutes. Unless it means Jensen is way too cool for him, and he's about to break up with his beat-cop.

Jensen's rocking on his toes, barely containing his excitement. He reaches out and takes both of Jared's hands. "I get a raise," he says.

Jared holds his breath, willing him to go on.

"Danneel and I have been talking— we kind of hate our landlord, and we want to get a new place. Well, Danneel and I want to get new places. Separately."

"Yeah?" Jared can sense where this is going, but he's not sure he wants to jump the gun in case he's wrong.

"I want you to move in with me," Jensen says, in a rush. He's grinning so wide his face must hurt. It's catching, and Jared starts to smile too. "We could get a big place. The dogs need more room, right?"

Jared's heart is pounding, and he lifts his hands to brush his lips across Jensen's knuckles. "They do."

"And my new schedule," Jensen says, like he's saved the best for last, "it's a day schedule. No more of this nightshift bullshit. I'm so tired of it, Jay."

Jared kisses him. He crushes Jensen to him and kisses him, and Jensen holds on and kisses back, radiating excitement.

"This is kind of a big deal," Jared says against his mouth. They could get a place closer to the station, closer to the hospital. The dogs could have more than four rooms to explore. They could get a yard, or be near a real dog park, or find a nice neighborhood for long, scenic runs. They could have a bigger kitchen, and two bedrooms, one for them and one for some kind of arbitrary office. He could see Jensen every morning and every evening, and never worry about making his shift again. He could lose his clothes in Jensen's laundry and not care for weeks. They'll finally be living on the same schedule.

"You're a big deal," Jensen says, and his cheeks are faintly pink. He's smiling more softly now, and shifting on his feet, and Jared gives him a little shake.

"Yes," he says, strangely breathless. "It sounds great, yes."

Jensen kisses him for a long moment, sealing the deal, and then hugs him tightly. "Oh man," he says, pulling away again and grinning like an idiot. "We've gotta keep your bed, though, because it's fucking gigantic. How did you get it in the door, anyway?"

"In pieces," Jared says, bending his head to kiss Jensen's neck while he rambles.

"And I can get an amp― you'll let me play the guitar in the house, right?"

"Right," Jared agrees.

"And we can carpool to work if you want, save gas and shit."

"Always a fan." Jared slides his fingers into Jensen's hair and bites his shoulder.

"Dude," Jensen says, like he's just realized something, "we can fuck _all the time._ "

"We'll need to go to work at least once a day to get a paycheck to pay for this new place," Jared says, laughing against Jensen's neck.

"The rest of the time, then," Jensen says, and he backs Jared against the wall. Jensen's not hard yet, but the way he's squirming his hips to get a little closer and pressing their chests together says it won't take much. Jensen slides his hands around Jared's back and tucks himself in tight. "I'm a great roommate," he says against Jared's cheek.

"I can't wait to find out," Jared says, and he can't stop grinning.

**The End.**

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**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Three Minor Details (Aiming to Shoot You Down)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/299377) by [mistyzeo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistyzeo/pseuds/mistyzeo)




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